One Geek To Rule Them All
by weezerz2490
Summary: Two American girls taking a break from college go on a trip to the UK and somehow wind up stuck in Middle Earth at the beginning of one of the greatest adventures of all time. What could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I've had this idea for awhile now, and I've finally decided to put it into action. This story will probably be based on a combination of both the books and the movies, but for the purposes of this story, please just go with me and pretend none of the Lord of the Rings movies have come out yet in the version of the 'real world' that the two OCs are from, okay? Thank you, and I hope you enjoy the story. Please let me know what you think!

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**Chapter 1: An Unexpected Journey**

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Devin smiled as she stretched her arms out and breathed in the fresh air, enjoying the woody smell of growing things and earth. The pale, gentle sunlight filtering down through the treetops from the grey English sky above felt good on her face. Being from the South, she still wasn't quite used to the much cooler autumn weather in the UK, but it was a nice change from the usual warm and humid climate they had to deal with back in Louisiana. And the colors were fantastic! The red, gold, and brown foliage in the magical Forest of Dean was absolutely gorgeous. They hardly ever got to see the leaves change like this back home. She pulled out her cell phone and started taking pictures. She wished her dad could see this. He was a huge Tolkien fan, and this forest was also supposedly where the famed author of the _Lord or the Rings_ trilogy (soon to be a movie) had come for inspiration… or something like that. She could've sworn her father had said something to that effect before…

"I can't believe you're taking pictures of trees." Kitty commented as she tried to scrape some of the mud on her black pleather boots off onto an exposed root. "We can see those anywhere. Let's go check out that Hay-town place or that Caldicot Castle thing."

"But we just got here." Devin said, frowning slightly in disappointment. "Besides, wasn't taking a hike through the forest your idea?"

"That was before I remembered that my chief outdoor activity is going back inside." Kitty deadpanned, slightly chagrined at herself. She had thought it would be fun to see the forest where Harry and the gang hid while on the run from Voldemort, but she wasn't as a much of a 'flowerchild' as Devin, so staring colorful leaves, dirt, and sore feet weren't exactly her idea of a good time. "I wanna see the castle now. I hear they're supposed to have ghosts and everything."

"We can see those anywhere, too." Devin replied, smiling wryly. You couldn't throw a stone without hitting_ something_ that was reputedly haunted in southeastern Louisiana.

"But these have an accent." Kitty said, smiling.

"Oh, all right, but I want to finish this trail first. We're almost at the river." Devin agreed as she continued to walk, deciding to humor her impatient friend. To be honest, she found the idea of British-accented ghosts somewhat amusing, even though it was only natural since they were in England. Still, accents were fun.

"What's it called again?" Kitty asked curiously, easily skipping ahead of her shorter-legged friend, walking backwards so she could face her. Devin smiled at her friend's antics and reached into her pocket to pull out the trail guide.

"I think it's supposed to be the Wye—_Kitty, look out!"_ Devin shouted in surprise when she glanced back up to see that Kitty was about to walk backwards into the river. Instinctively, she reached out to grab the taller girl as Kitty's eyes widened when she felt herself start to fall.

_SPLASH!_

The next thing they knew, the two girls found themselves submerged in the rushing cold water. Devin kept her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she held her breath and fought to keep hold of Kitty's hand while the unexpectedly strong current tossed them about.

"!" Devin gasped for air the moment she felt her head break through to the surface again.

"Devin!" Kitty shouted, spitting out some of the water that had gotten into her mouth. "I think—I think I can stand!" She said, trying to get her footing as they floated down to a less turbulent spot.

"Good, because it's definitely over my head!" Devin said, chagrined. At 4'11½" she was practically hobbit-sized, whereas Kitty was more like an elf at her much more substantial height or 5'7". Together the two girls managed to scramble back onto dry land, shivering and soaking wet.

"What I wouldn't give for some warm clothes and a fire…" Devin muttered through chattering teeth.

"You mean like that?" Kitty asked, pointing to a campfire someone had set up just inside the treeline a yard away from the river bank.

"Yeah, that'll do." Devin said, smiling wryly, as she stood up and tried to brush off as much mud as possible while they made their way towards the inviting warmth of the fire. "This reminds me of a story my parents used to read to me called 'Fortunately, Unfortunately'." She said as they sat down and started trying to warm themselves. "Fortunately, it was a beautiful day for a hike in the woods. Unfortunately, we fell into a cold river. Fortunately, we found a fire as soon as we climbed out..."

"Unfortunately, that fire already belonged to someone else." A deep voice finished for her from behind them.

"Wha—_!_?" The two girls exclaimed in surprise and alarm as they whirled around to face its owner, caught completely off guard. They found themselves staring up at an extremely tall man dressed all in dark clothes that made it look as though he were cosplaying as some kind of rogue for a renaissance festival. His face was hidden in the shadow of his hood. Where did this guy come from_!_? He hadn't made a sound!

"Who are you? Are you some kind of ninja?" Kitty demanded suspiciously, clinging to Devin.

"Ninja? What is that?" The man asked, looking slightly puzzled as he removed his hood, revealing a somewhat worn but ruggedly handsome face. He had keen grey eyes, and his dark hair was slightly peppered with a couple of grey strands here and there. It was clear he was sizing them up, assessing whether they might be a threat or not. Devin didn't think he needed to be so wary of a couple of sopping wet college girls, though she did have a taser in her backpack, if the fall in the river didn't screw it up.

Kitty stared at the man incredulously. At first she had thought he was joking, but the genuine look of confusion on his face as he took in their appearance proved him to be perfectly serious. Did this guy live under a rock or something?

"Um, hi… I'm Devin, and this is Kitty. I hope you don't mind if we share your fire for a few minutes, Mister…?" Devin ventured awkwardly, remembering her manners, while subtly hinting for him to fill in his own name.

"They call me 'Strider' around these parts." He answered somewhat cryptically, setting down the firewood he had just come back from collecting. They were unarmed and seemed harmless enough, but their clothing and manner of speech was highly unusual. And one could never be too careful these days.

"Oh, I get it!" Devin said, lighting up as it all clicked into place. "'Strider', as in Aragorn. You're dressed as a ranger. Are y'all doing some kind of LARP nearby or something? What are you doing, looking for hobbits?" Her smile faltered slightly when she saw the somewhat disturbed expression on his face before he fixed her with a steely glare.

"Who sent you?" He demanded evenly, placing a hand over the handle of his sword. How did they know his real name? How did they know he was looking Frodo Baggins? Did they know Gandalf or were they enemy spies? He knew Sauron's agents came in many forms.

"What?" Kitty asked, furrowing her brow slightly as she stared dubiously up at him, wondering what this 'Strider's' problem was. Did this dude sustain a head injury recently or something?

"Whoa, wait. Just calm down. Nobody sent us." Devin said warily holding up her empty hands to show they meant no harm. "We don't want any trouble. I'm a Tolkien fan, too." She added, hoping to find some common ground to keep him from attacking. She really hoped this guy wasn't a—

"What is this 'Tolkien' of which you speak?" Strider asked seriously, furrowing his brow.

—nut job. He was a nut job. Of course he would be.

"Are you kidding me?" Kitty asked, deadpanning. Even she knew who that was, though she preferred _Harry Potter_. "Tolkein's the guy who wrote—mph!" She grunted in annoyance when Devin suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her aside.

"Shh!" Devin whispered urgently. "We can't just tell him it's all a work of fiction. He obviously thinks _he's_ the real Aragorn. Who knows how he'd react."

"Well, what else are we supposed to do? Just play along?" Kitty whispered, raising an eyebrow, as she glanced back over her shoulder at the clearly delusional man, who was still eyeing them suspiciously.

"Yeah, at least until we can get out of this forest." Devin whispered, nodding. "I'm not sure I even know where we are anymore. I thought we were only in the water for a minute or two, but this doesn't look familiar at all. We must have drifted pretty far. That guy might be crazy, but if he spends all his time playing ranger in here, then he might be able to lead us back to the trail." She explained reasonably.

"Ohh. Good thinking." Kitty whispered. "I was just gonna suggest we hit him over the head and run."

"We'd probably just end up even more lost." Devin whispered, smiling wryly. "Just let me handle this, okay?" Kitty straightened up as they both turned back to face 'Strider' again. "Since you said they call you Strider 'around these parts', am I correct in thinking that we're somewhere near the village of Bree?"

Strider blinked at that. They didn't know where they were? But they were just outside the Shire. They could only have just come from the River Baranduin (Brandywine). In fact, he had almost taken the smaller one for a hobbit until he noticed her feet were smaller than was usual for one and were shod in strange, bright blue shoes, the likes of which he had never seen before, and he had seen much over his long life as a ranger.

"Because, if we are near Bree, and you are looking for a certain hobbit in possession of a certain item as a favor to a certain grey wizard… we just might be able to help each other out." Devin said cryptically. "We're not your enemy. As you can probably tell from our foreign clothing, we are both strangers to this land. We're just two cold, wet, and lost girls looking for the nearest trace of civilization. We have no interest in the ring or its current owner or a lost king, but we do have a clue as to where you can find what you seek. If you help us get safely to the nearest village, we'll tell you where to find them, deal?"

"How do I know I can trust you? This could be a trap for all I know." He said reasonably, holding her gaze.

"We have no proof of innocence beyond our own word." Devin replied calmly, returning his even stare with one of her own. "I'll leave that judgment up to you. But you should know that we're strangers to this land. If you leave us here, we could very well die from exposure and hunger. I don't think you want our deaths on your conscience. You seem to have enough to worry about already." Kitty glanced between the two of them, watching silently as her petite friend stared down (or up) the possibly dangerous and paranoid delusional man before them.

"Very well." Strider said, relaxing slightly, as he finally removed his hand from the hilt of his sword. "I shall escort the two of you to Bree, and in return, you shall tell me all the information you have on the hobbit I seek as well as how you came to know of my search for him." Although it was disconcerting that they seemed to already know so much about him and the ring-bearer, these two girls did not appear to be agents of Sauron. For one thing, the eyes of this girl, Devin, were too clear and honest for that. He glanced at her friend, who was still eyeing him skeptically, staying protectively close to her smaller friend. She obviously didn't trust him either. He kicked some dirt on the small fire to put it out. "Follow me." They would have to make haste if they wanted to reach the village by nightfall.

…

It was dark when they reached the village of Bree. It had also begun to rain, just when the girls were finally starting to get a little dry.

"Um… correct me if I'm wrong, but that wasn't there before, was it?" Kitty asked Devin, lowering her voice, as the two of them huddled together for warmth and stared up at the stone wall surrounding the village Strider had led them to. Even though he had ended up leading them back in pretty much the same direction they thought they had come from before falling into the river… but like Kitty just pointed out, none of this looked the slightest bit familiar.

Devin frowned. She didn't remember seeing anything like this on the map, which was ruined, by the way.

"This way." Aragorn said, leading them up to the wall. He planned to use the cover of darkness to sneak the tree of them in unnoticed. He had his own reasons for not wanting his whereabouts recorded by the gatekeeper, and he doubted the two girls, harmless as they looked, would be allowed in without extensive questioning, and he would rather certain pieces of knowledge in their possession remained secret.

"Um, about how tall would you say this wall is?" Devin asked tentatively, not sure she would be able to climb over on her own. She'd hopped one or two fences before, but those hadn't been slicked with rain.

"I'd say a little over 7ft. Want a lift?" Kitty asked casually.

"Sure, but I'll probably need someone to catch me on the other side. Can you get over by yourself?" Devin replied, concerned her friend might get stranded out there in the rain.

"Sure. I've done worse." She replied, shrugging. "Hey, Strider, can you catch Devin? I'm gonna toss her over the wall since she's too short to jump this by herself."

"Are you certain? Perhaps I should be the one to 'toss' her over?" He suggested, furrowing his brow slightly. Both girls deadpanned. Clearly, he was underestimating them.

"Yeah, we've got this." Devin said. "You go on ahead. Be ready on the count of three." He gave the girls one last look before jumping up and pulling himself over the wall in one swift motion, landing almost silently on the other side with only a very soft splash to indicate his presence.

"Okay, that was kind of cool." Kitty said with appreciation before turning to Devin. "You ready?"

"Am I ever not?" She replied, smirking. Kitty smirked back. She just wished she could see the look on Striders face when he saw what was about to happen. Kitty kneeled down and cupped her hands, allowing Devin to step into them.

"1…" Kitty counted. "2… 3…!" In one fluid motion, Kitty stood up and threw her cupped hands into the air while Devin jumped up and did a midair flip over the wall before landing securely in Strider's outstretched arms.

"Safe!" Devin declared, grinning, as she held up a 'V' for victory with her fingers. All those years of cheerleading had paid off.

Strider blinked and stared at the petite girl in his arms while Kitty jumped up and somehow managed to climb over the wall (albeit not with quite the same amount of grace as him). He had certainly not been expecting that. Perhaps there was more to these girls than meets the eye. Perhaps they were traveling performers of some kind? It would certainly explain their strange clothing and the feat of agility the little one had just demonstrated.

"Now, tell me what where I can find the hobbit I seek and how you came to know all that you spoke to me of before." He said firmly as he set Devin back down on her own two feet, getting down to business.

"Are you sure you want to talk out here?" Devin asked, glancing around. It was dark, but she could make out a number of people moving about in the main street several feet away. Despite the rain, they all seemed to be walking around without umbrellas.

Strider followed her gaze and thought the better of it. She was right. You could never be too careful. He nodded in approval of her caution.

"Come. I know a place where we can talk and get out of the rain." He said, leading them to the main street.

Kitty grimaced when she stepped in a particularly deep mud puddle. She knew some areas of England could be rustic, but these streets weren't even cobbled. Was this some kind of medieval tourist trap or something, because everyone was dressed like they had just come from RenFest. Kitty seriously had to do a double-take when two midgets with larger than average bare feet crossed in front of her, taking advantage of the gap between her and her companions to cross the busy street. There was just no way… Those had to be the most realistic hobbit costumes _ever_. She shook her head and quickly caught up with the others.

"OMG, Devin, you'll never guess what I just saw!" Kitty said, almost bumping into her short friend when she suddenly stopped short. "What?" Devin just raised her arm and pointed up at the sign for the practically medieval inn that Strider had led them to. The door was open and light streamed out of it. Above the arch was a lamp, and beneath it swung a large signboard that was carved in the image of a fat white pony reared up on its hind legs. Over the door was painted in white letters: _the Prancing Pony by Barliman Butterbur._ The two girls exchanged a somewhat bewildered look before following Strider inside. Their eyes nearly popped out of their heads when they saw the scene waiting for them on the inside. There were even more 'hobbits' mixed among the crowd of humans, and there were even some dwarves scattered about here and there. Devin blinked and glanced questioningly at Kitty, wondering if she was really seeing what she thought she was seeing. Kitty nodded slowly, confirming that this was in fact happening for real.

"Are we being punked or something?" Devin whisper-yelled, trying to be heard above the noisy din without drawing too much unwanted attention, as they weaved their way through the crowd to catch up with Strider, who was talking to a burly but rather friendly-faced man with rosy cheeks. The man was looking at Strider with an open expression of suspicion and apprehension, but he took his money and began leading the ranger out of the main common room.

"Come." Strider said, gesturing for them to follow before they got left behind.

"Maybe they're filming a movie?" Kitty suggested lamely as they followed the two men up some stairs, doubting her own suggestion with the lack of noticeable cameras and crew that would be needed for such a thing.

"Kitty, everyone knows they're supposed to be setting up 'Middle Earth' in New Zealand." Devin stated matter-of-factly, as if it should have been common knowledge.

"Well, what else could it be? This is way too elaborate for some cheesy candid camera show!" Kitty hissed, starting to get nervous. "Even the _smell_ is authentic."

"What was that?" The man, whom Devin guessed was supposed to be Butterbur, asked, glancing back at them, as he unlocked the door to the private room Strider had just rented for them to continue their discussion in.

"Oh, um, we were just saying what a nice place you've got here." Devin said quickly, not wanting to piss off the locals until they knew more about what was going on. Butterbur eyed them a bit skeptically, probably because they looked so out of place compared to the rest of his customers, and also probably because they were with Strider. He hadn't cared much for the ranger in the book either.

"Well, I'll be downstairs if' you'll be needin' anything else. But try hollering for Nob if you do. As you can see, we're more crowded than usual downstairs." He told the ranger before brushing past the girls to leave.

"Ah, excuse me!" Devin called after the man, stopping him. "What's today's date?"

"Why, September the 29th, of course." He replied matter-of-factly.

"And the year?" She pressed, furrowing her brow slightly.

"3018." He replied, furrowing his own brow. It was one thing to loose track of the days, but the years? "Now, begging your pardon miss, but I have to get back downstairs." He said, excusing himself with a nod of his head.

"Let me guess, Mr. Butterbur?" Devin asked Strider as the two girls stared after the retreating man, stunned by what they had just heard. There had been no lie in the man's eyes. He seriously believed they were in the year 3018 of the Third Age of Middle Earth. That meant entire town was full of crazies, or something in the universe was seriously out of whack.

"Yes." Strider replied calmly as he opened the door and held it open for them to step inside, figuring she must have read the sign above the door and used common sense to figure out that he had just been talking to the owner. Once they were all inside, he shut the door. "Now, talk."

"Don't look at me." Kitty said defensively, glancing at Devin. She was the real _Lord of the Rings_ geek.

"Well, I suppose we'll start of with the simplest part, which is where you can find Frodo Baggins. He'll be coming to this very inn sometime tonight with three other hobbits looking for Gandalf, but they won't find him, so they're gonna need your help." Devin explained calmly before taking a breath. Now for the awkward part. "As for how we came to know this information…" She glanced briefly at Kitty before glancing back at Strider. He was watching her carefully with a piercing gaze. He would probably be able to tell if she was lying, so she should probably stick to the truth as much as possible. "We come from a place far, far away from here, where there is a very special book containing legends and portents pertaining to these lands. We know of the ring and what it will mean if the enemy gets his hands on it, and we have no intention of letting that happen. We just want to get home, but there are certain… complications." She said rather enigmatically.

"Such as being lost?" Strider asked, raising an eyebrow. He could tell she was holding back something, but everything she had been willing to tell him seemed to be the truth.

"Well, that's part of it…" Devin replied hesitantly. She didn't want to go into too much detail until she knew more about the situation.

"Very well." Strider replied calmly after a moment. It was obvious that he wasn't going to get much more out of her for the moment. "If you ladies will excuse me, I believe I had better go back to the common room to wait for our hobbits to arrive." He said, excusing himself before turning and leaving the room.

"Okay… So, what's going on and what's with all the secrecy? Why didn't you just tell him we're from the real world?" Kitty asked once he was gone, crossing her arms. " 'Cause that's where are, right? The Tolkien-verse? It totally breaks the laws of physics, but it would explain everything we've seen since falling into the river."

"Oh my God, Kitty—we can't just tell these people they're fictional characters!" Devin whisper-yelled even though they were alone, giving her friend a look of exasperation. Good thing Kitty had let her do all the talking, or who knows what might've happened.

"Why not?" Kitty asked innocently.

"Well, think about it. How would you feel if some stranger came up and said that to you? How would you react?" Devin asked reasonably.

"I'd call 911 and have their crazy ass thrown into the loony bin." Kitty replied without skipping a beat.

"_Exactly_." Devin said as she crossed the room to look out the window. "We can't just tell him the whole truth, or he'll think we're nuts."

"So you agree with me that we're in some alternate world? I know we're both _Doctor Who_ fans, but I expected a little more resistance on your part to such an illogical idea." Kitty stated honestly.

"It's crazy, but not _completely_ illogical…" Devin replied as bit absently as she stared out the window at the night sky. She frowned slightly at what she saw, or rather, what she didn't see. "Look." She said, stepping back so Kitty could come have a look for herself. "Notice anything odd about the sky?"

"You can totally see a million stars out there?" Kitty asked, furrowing her brow slightly. Was this really the time to be stargazing?

"Yeah, that, _and_ the constellations are completely screwed up." Devin said, shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose. She could feel a stress headache coming on. "None of them are where they're supposed to be. We're looking at a totally different sky! Building a town and filling it full of people in elaborate costumes is one thing, but they can't rearrange the stars. We are _definitely_ not in Kansas anymore."

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I have added some links to pics of the OCs and their outfits to my profile for anyone who is interested once they're done reviewing ;)


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing but my OC's.

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**Previously:**

"So_ you agree with me that we're in some alternate world? I know we're both Doctor Who fans, but I expected a little more resistance on your part to such an illogical idea." Kitty stated honestly._

_"It's crazy, but not completely illogical…" Devin replied as bit absently as she stared out the window at the night sky. She frowned slightly at what she saw, or rather, what she didn't see. "Look." She said, stepping back so Kitty could come have a look for herself. "Notice anything odd about the sky?"_

_"You can totally see a million stars out there?" Kitty asked, furrowing her brow slightly. Was this really the time to be stargazing?_

_"Yeah, that, and the constellations are completely screwed up." Devin said, shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose. She could feel a stress headache coming on. "None of them are where they're supposed to be. We're looking at a totally different sky! Building a town and filling it full of people in elaborate costumes is one thing, but they can't rearrange the stars. We are definitely not in Kansas anymore."_

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**Chapter 2: The Prancing Pony**

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"So what now? How does something like this even happen?" Kitty asked. The whole thing was really confusing, but also kind of amazing.

"I don't know. My head hurts." Devin said, kneading her forehead as she plopped down onto a chair.

"Yes, thinking will do that." Kitty said sagely, nodding her head.

"Oh, shut up. It's just stress." Devin retorted a bit tartly. "Anyway, if we're going to assume this is all real, then the rest of it must be real too. Maybe Gandalf or Elrond will be able to figure out how to send us back. They're old, wise, and magical. They're bound to know _something_ that can help us."

"Does this mean we're going to Rivendell?" Kitty asked, breaking out into a grin. Devin sighed.

"Yeah, we're going to Rivendell." She said, smiling wryly. "But don't get too excited. We have no practical knowledge of how this world works aside from what we can remember from the books, our wilderness survival skills are pretty limited, and our money's no good here. We'll have to see if we can convince Aragorn to let us tag along with him and the hobbits, but if they're real, then so is the danger they're in…" She stopped when she saw the extra wide Cheshire cat grin on her friend's face. "And that part about 'danger' just made you want to do it even more, didn't it?" She asked, face-palming.

"Oh, yeah. We're goin' on an adventure!" Kitty cheered, pumping her fist in the air. "Whoo! Come on, Devin, you're a cheerleader. Where's your pep?"

"Yeah, okay. I guess it is pretty awesome." Devin agreed as she allowed her lips to form a smile. There was no point in worrying about it now, not when they were already in the thick of it. They might as well enjoy the ride. Besides, how often had she pretended to be on some epic quest like this as a child? This was a chance to live the dream. However… "But, Kitty… how much medicine do you have with you?" She asked carefully. Kitty stopped jumping around and blinked.

"I dunno, lots?" She said, shrugging. "I put the whole bottle in the backpack before we left, so… about a month's worth, I guess." She didn't trust the hotel staff. One of them might try to take her happy pills and become a drug dealer. What? It could happen.

"Alright, good. That'll get us to Rivendell." Devin said, nodding. And then her stomach growled really loudly, reminding them that neither of them had eaten in hours. Kitty laughed while Devin blushed. It wasn't that funny.

"Haha, alright, alright. Let's go get something to eat and help Aragorn stalk the hobbits. It'll be like dinner and show." Kitty suggested, grinning impishly.

—\—|—/—

After setting the contents of their bag out to dry, the girls went downstairs to join Aragorn in the common room. The big common room seemed ot be even more bustling and crowded than before. They got a couple of strange stares from some of the other patrons, probably because of their modern clothing, but thankfully no one tried to start anything with them. There were lots of Bree-hobbits huddled together, talking cheerfully amongst themselves, while the Men and Dwarves they passed all seemed to be talking of distant events that hinted at the trouble the two girls already knew was stirring in the South. Many of them seemed to be part of a recent influx of refugees. It was a good thing Aragorn had gone down ahead of them, or they'd have had a hard time finding a decent place to sit. They found him sitting in a dark corner near the fireplace, helped themselves to a chair, and ordered some food and drink. Devin traded her earrings to pay for it.

"They come in yet?" Kitty asked Aragorn as she cut herself a slice of cheese to munch on while Devin tapped the hard biscuit against the plate, trying to break it.

"Just there." Aragorn replied quietly, pointing to a table of three hobbits with his pipe as the fourth walked over with a whole pint of ale and rejoined his friends. Kitty and Devin smiled as they strained their ears to listen in on their conversation in the noisy and crowded room.

"What's that?" The youngest looking one with curly light brown hair, whom Devin guessed was most likely Pippin, asked his blonde friend as he carefully set the large tankard down on the table. He looked like a child trying to drink out of his father's glass, because it was so large he had to use both hands to hold it.

"This, my friend, is a pint." The blonde hobbit replied, grinning, as he tilted the tankard to take a sip.

"It comes in pints?" Pippin asked, amazed. It was like someone had just told the young hobbit that Christmas had come early.

"Mm." The blonde, who was probably Merry, replied while he continued to drink.

"I'm getting one." Pippin stated decisively, nodding his head firmly, as he stood up and rushed off to get a pint of his own.

Devin shared a knowing smile with Kitty. Yep, those two were definitely Pippin and Merry.

"You've had a whole half already!" A dark-blonde hobbit called after him, trying to be sensible. Okay, that had to be Sam, which meant the quiet hobbit with dark-brown hair had to be Frodo.

Devin was enjoying watching the four friends interact with each other, but then she remembered something rather odd… Didn't Merry go out for a walk instead of joining the others for a drink? She was certain that was how it had happened in the book. Yeah, and then Pippin, Sam, and Frodo were supposed to talk to the Bree-hobbits for a bit before Pippin started acting out after getting too much attention; and Frodo had to sing a song or something to distract them before he spilled the beans, only to have it backfire on him when he accidentally slipped and caught the ring on his finger, drawing even more attention to himself by disappearing in front of everyone… But that didn't seem to be what was happening here. It was a very small difference, but like the butterfly effect theory says, even the smallest change could have a huge impact. Devin furrowed her brow slightly, wondering what brought this particular change about and what it could mean for the story. Could their arrival in this world somehow be the cause?

Out the corner of his eye, Aragorn noticed the slightly troubled expression on Devin's face as she watched the hobbits, while Kitty continued to stuff hers, but said nothing, choosing instead to stay on guard while he watched the ring-bearer rather than strike up a conversation.

"Those three have done nothing but stare at you since we arrived." Sam whispered to Frodo, pointing at the three humans, who were seated at a table that was partially in the shadow by the fireplace.

"Excuse me." Frodo said, stopping Butterbur. "That man in the corner. Who is he?" Butterbur glanced over at the table of three. Kitty and Devin gave him a friendly little wave, but he quickly turned away, looking back at Frodo.

"Wow. Rude, much?" Kitty commented, feeling a bit put out. Was he that unfriendly to all of his customers? He could kiss his tip goodbye if he kept that up.

"He's one of them Rangers. They're dangerous folk, wandering the Wilds." Butterbur told Frodo, keeping his voice down so the three humans wouldn't hear him. "What his right name is, I've never heard, but around here, he's known as Strider. I've never seen those two girls who're with him before, and I didn't catch their names, but you can tell there's something queer about them just from the looks of their clothing. I'd be careful of them if I was you, little master." He cautioned the hobbit before getting back to business.

"Strider." Frodo mused aloud, glancing across the room at the mysterious man in the shadows and the two strange girls who were with him.

"He totally just said something bad about us, didn't he?" Kitty asked as she ripped one of the hard biscuits in half, miffed that even in this world people were still talking trash about her.

"Or about 'Strider' here, at the very least." Devin said, glancing briefly at the ranger before propping her head up on one of her hands. Between the ale and the warmth of the fire, she was starting to feel pretty cozy despite the strange circumstances.

"Baggins?" All three of them whipped their heads around, immediately snapping to attention, when they heard Pippin's voice say the taboo name, as did Frodo and Sam. "Sure, I know a Baggins. He's over there. Frodo Baggins." Pippin continued carelessly, seemingly oblivious to the amount of danger he was putting them all in by pointing out Frodo to a group of rather suspicious looking men that were gathered around him by the bar. Kitty started to move to intercept Pippin, but Devin placed a hand on her arm and shook head, giving her a look that said not to interfere. This wasn't their world. It would be totally irresponsible to do something that might screw up everyone else's happy ending. Besides, from the look of things, Frodo was already on it. The troubled hobbit had already hopped up and started heading for his loudmouth cousin. "He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side; and my third cousin, twice removed on his mother's side." Pippin added before stopping to take a sip of ale from his pint.

"Pippin!" Frodo shouted, reaching for his cousin as he rushed over to him and turned the younger hobbit to face him.

"Steady on, Frodo." Pippin said when the action caused him to spill some of his ale as he turned. Frodo slipped on the spilled liquid as Pippin pulled his arm away and tripped over one the larger men's feet. Aragorn, Devin, and Kitty held their breath as they watched the hobbit fall backwards onto the floor while a gold ring, _the Ring_, flew up into the air above him. Time seemed to slow down as their eyes widened, and Frodo reached up his hand, trying to catch the ring. He touched it with the tip of one of his fingers, and then suddenly, the hobbit was gone, as if he had just vanished into thin air. While the people around the seemingly empty spot on the floor let out a few startled cries, caught totally off-guard by the spectacle they had just witnessed, Aragorn sprang into action, scanning the room for any signs that might indicate where the invisible hobbit might have got to, and Devin and Kitty quickly followed after him. They caught sight of Frodo hiding beneath one of the tables by the stairs as soon as he pulled off the ring. Aragorn stepped forward and grabbed the hobbit.

"!" Frodo yelped in surprise when he was hoisted back onto his feet and dragged into the staircase by the Ranger for a little private conversation.

"You draw far too much attention to yourself, 'Mr. Underhill'." Aragorn scolded Frodo in a low voice before herding him up the stairs with Kitty and Devin on his heels. Aragorn pushed Frodo into their room before brushing past the hobbit so he could extinguish the candles while Devin shut the door and Kitty blocked Frodo's way out. This was a conversation that needed to happen.

"I can avoid being seen if I wish… but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift." Aragorn said, removing his hood, as he turned back to face Frodo.

"Who are you?" Frodo asked.

"Are you frightened?" Aragorn asked.

"Yes." Frodo replied honestly.

"Not nearly frightened enough." Aragorn retorted ominously. "I know what hunts you."

"Yeah, and it ain't pretty." Kitty added.

"Um, Kitty, let's let Strider handle this, okay?" Devin said, stepping away from the door just in time to avoid being hit in the face with it when it abruptly burst open. Aragorn instinctively drew his sword the minute the door started to move, prepared to defend Frodo and the ring if it should prove to be the enemy, but there was no need. It was just Sam, Merry, and Pippin, come to save their friend.

Devin furrowed her brow. Wait, wasn't his sword supposed to still be broken at this point in the story? It looked like the story must have somehow gotten off track even before their untimely arrival…

"Let him go! Or I'll have you, Longshanks!" Sam shouted, brandishing his fists threateningly at the tall man while Merry and Pippin backed him up, armed with a candlestick and chair. Kitty smiled bemusedly at the three of them, amused by their choice of weapons.

"You have a stout heart, little Hobbit." Aragorn complimented Sam as he re-sheathed his sword. "But that will not save you. You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo. They're coming."

The hobbits looked reluctant to trust him, and to someone who didn't know any better, Aragorn would've indeed looked mighty suspicious. Devin knew she probably wouldn't appear much better in the hobbits' eyes, but she decided to give it a shot.

"Tomorrow you will have to escape, if you can. You will have to leave the open road after tonight; for the riders in black will watch it night and day. You may escape from Bree and be allowed to go forward while the sun is up, but you won't get far. They'll come upon you in the Wild, in some dark place where there is no help. Do you want them to find you? Because they will do unspeakable things to you if they do. Strider knows how to survive in the Wild and can take you by paths that are seldom traveled. Your only chance is to make for Rivendell, and we can take you there." Aragorn glanced at her for the 'we' part. He did not see why they should come as well. "Will you have him?" She asked. There was another heavy silence while the hobbits considered her words. Frodo made no answer. His mind was confused with doubt and fear. Sam frowned, looked at his master, and at last he broke out:

"With your leave, Mr. Frodo, I'd say _no_! This Strider here, he warns and he says take care; and I say _yes_ to that, and let's begin with him and his companions. He comes out of the Wild, and I've never heard no good of such folk. These three know something, that's plain, and more than I like; but it's no reason why we should let him go leading us out into some dark place far from help, as she puts it." Kitty raised an eyebrow. What, no special mention about her? That was no fun. Pippin fidgeted and looked uncomfortable, not sure if he should set the chair down yet or not. Strider did not reply to Sam, but turned his keen eyes on Frodo. Frodo caught his glance and looked away.

"No," Frodo said slowly. "I don't agree. I think you are not really as you choose to look." He told Strider. "Still Sam seems right in this. I don't see why you should warn us to take care, and yet ask us to take you on trust. Why the disguise? Who are you? What do you really know about my business, and how do you know it?"

"The lesson on caution has been well learned." Strider said with a grim smile. "But caution is one thing and wavering is another. You will never get to Rivendell now on your own, and to trust me is your only chance. You must make up your mind. I will answer some of your questions if that will help you to do so. But why should you believe my story if you do not trust me already? Still, here it is—"

But at that moment, before the ranger could say another word, there came a knock at the door. Mr. Butterbur had arrived with candles, and behind him was a hobbit with cans of hot water. Strider and the girls withdrew into a dark corner.

"I've come to bid you good night." Said the landlord, putting the candles on the table. "Nob! Take the water to the rooms." He came in and shut the door. "It's like this," Butterbur began, hesitating and looking troubled, "if I've done any harm , I'm sorry indeed. But one thing drives out another, as you'll admit; and I'm a busy man. But first one thing and then another this week have jogged my memory, as the saying goes; and not too late I hope. You see, I was asked to look out for hobbits of the Shire, and for one by the name of Baggins in particular."

"And what has that got to do with me?" Frodo asked warily.

"Ah! You know best." Butterbur said knowingly. "I won't give you away, but I was told that this Baggins would be going by the name of Underhill, and I was given a description that fits you well enough, if I may say so."

"Well, let's have it then!" Frodo said, unwisely interrupting.

"_A stout little fellow with red cheeks_," Butterbur began quoting solemnly, earning a chuckle from Pippin. Sam looked indignant on Frodo's behalf. "_That won't help you much; it goes for most hobbits, Barley_, he says to me," the landlord continued, "_but this one is taller than some and fairer than most—perky little chap with bright eye. _Begging your pardon, but he said it, not me."

"_He_ said it? And who was he?" Frodo asked eagerly.

"Ah! That was Gandalf, if you know who I mean. A wizard they say he is, but he's a good friend of mine, whether or no. But now I don't know what he'll have to say to me, if I see him again—turn all my ale sour or me into a block of wood, I shouldn't wonder. He's a bit hasty. Still, what's done can't be undone."

"Well, what have you done?" Frodo asked, getting impatient with the slow unraveling of Butterbur's thoughts. Kitty seconded that emotion.

"Where was I?" asked the landlord, pausing and snapping his fingers. "Ah, yes! Old Gandalf. Three months back he walked right into my room without a knock. _Barley, _he says, _I'm off in the morning. Will you do something for me? You've only to name it_, I said. _I'm in a hurry, _said he, _and I've no time myself, but I want a message taken to the Shire. Have you anyone you can send, and trust to go? I can find someone, _I said, _tomorrow, maybe, or the day after. Make it tomorrow, _he says, and then he gave me a letter. It's addressed plain enough." Said Butterbur, producing a letter from his pocket, and reading out the address slowly and proudly (for he valued his reputation as a lettered man):

_Mr. FRODO BAGGINS, BAG END, HOBBITON in the SHIRE._

"A letter for me from Gandalf!" exclaimed Frodo excitedly.

"Ah!" said Butterbur. "Then your right name is Baggins?"

"It is, and you had better give me that letter at once and explain why you never sent it." Frodo told him. "That's what you came to tell me, I suppose, though you've taken a long time to come to the point." Poor Butterbur looked troubled.

"You're right, master," he said, "and I beg your pardon. And I'm mortal afraid of what Gandalf will say, if harm comes of it. But I didn't keep it back a-purpose. I put it by safe. Then I couldn't find nobody willing to go to the Shire next day, nor the day after, and none of my own folk were to spare; and then one thing after another drove it out of my mind. I'm a busy man. I'll do what I can to set matters right, and if there's any help I can give, you've only to name it. Leaving the letter aside, I promised Gandalf no less. _Barley, _he says to me, _this friend of mine from the Shire, he may be coming out this way before long, him and another. He'll be calling himself Underhill. Mind that! But you need ask no questions. And if I'm not with him, he may be in trouble, and he may need help. Do whatever you can for him, and I'll be grateful, _he says. And here you are, and trouble is not far off, seemingly."

"What do you mean?" asked Frodo.

"These black men," Butterbur said, lowering his voice. "They're looking for _Baggins_, and if they mean well, then I'm a hobbit. It was Monday, and all the dogs were yammering and the geese screaming. Uncanny, I called it. Nob, he came and told me that two black men were at the door asking for a hobbit called Baggins. Nob's hair was all stood on end. I bid the black fellows be off and slammed the door on them, but they've been asking the same question all the way to Archet, I hear. And that Ranger, Strider, he's been asking questions, too. Tried to get in here to see you before you'd had a bite or sup, he did."

"He did!" Strider said suddenly, stepping forward into the light. "And much trouble would have been saved, if you had let him in, Barliman." The landlord jumped in surprise.

"You!" he cried. "You're always popping up. What do you want now?" He asked as the two girls came forward as well, following Aragorn's lead.

"They are here with my leave." Frodo said. "They came to offer me their help."

"Well, you know your own business, maybe." Butterbur said, eyeing the three of them suspiciously. "But if I was in your plight, I wouldn't take up with a Ranger."

"Then who would you take up with?" Kitty asked saucily, putting her hands on her hips. "A fat innkeeper who can't even remember to do something as simple as mail a little letter?"

"They can't stay at _The Pony_ forever, and they can't go home." Devin added a bit more calmly. "They have a long journey before them. Will you go with them and keep the black men off their tails?"

"Me? Leave Bree! I wouldn't do that for any money." Butterbur said, looking really scared. "But why can't you stay here quiet for a bit, Mr. Underhill? What are all these queer goings on? What are these black men after, and where do they come from, I'd like to know?"

_No you wouldn't._ Devin and Kitty thought.

"I'm sorry I can't explain it all." Answered Frodo. "I am tired and very worried, and it's a long tale. But if you mean to help me, I ought to warn you that you will be in danger as long as I am in your house. These Black Riders: I am not sure, but I think, I fear they come from—"

"They come from Mordor." Aragorn said in a low voice. "From Mordor, Barliman, if that means anything to you."

"Save us!" cried Butterbur, turning pale. Evidently the name was known to him. "That is the worst news that has come to Bree in my time."

"It is." Frodo agreed. "Are you still willing to help me?"

"I am." Said Butterbur. "More than ever. Though I don't know what the likes of me can do against, against—" He faltered.

"Against the Shadow in the East." Aragorn finished for him quietly. "Not much, Barliman, but every little bit helps. You can let Mr. Underhill stay here tonight, as Mr. Underhill, and you can forget the name of Baggins, till he is far away."

"I'll do that." Said Butterbur. "But they'll find out he's here without help from me, I'm afraid. It's a pity Mr. Baggins drew attention to himself this evening, to say no more. The story of that Mr. Bilbo's going off has been heard before in Bree. Even our Nob has been doing some guessing in his slow pate; and there are others in Bree quicker on the uptake than he is."

"Well, we can only hope the riders won't come back yet." Said Frodo.

"I hope not, indeed." Butter said. "But spooks or no spooks, they won't get in _The Pony_ so easy. Don't you worry till the morning. Nob'll say no word. No black man shall pass my doors. While I can stand on my legs. Me and my folk'll keep watch tonight; but you had best get some sleep, if you can."

"In any case we must be called at dawn." Frodo said. Kitty grimaced slightly at the thought of having to get up so early. "We must get off as early as possible. Breakfast at six-thirty, please."

"Right! I'll see to the orders." Butterbur said. "Good night, Mr. Baggins—Underhill, I should say! Good night. I must go and bar the doors quick. Good night to you all!" At last Mr. Butterbur went out, with another doubtful look at Strider and the girls and a shake of his head. They waited and listened while his footsteps retreated down the hall.

"Well?" asked Aragorn. "When are you going to open that letter?" Frodo looked carefully at the seal before opening it. It certainly seemed to be Gandalf's. Inside, written in the wizard's strong but graceful script was the following message:

_THE PRANCING PONY, BREE, Midyear's Day, Shire Year, 1418._

_Dear Frodo,  
Bad news has reached me here. I must go off at once. You had better leave Bag End soon, and get out of the Shire before the end of July at latest. I will return as soon as I can; and I will follow you, if I find that you are gone. Leave a message for me here if you pass through Bree. You can trust the landlord (Butterbur). You may meet a friend of mine on the Road: a Man, lean, dark, tall, by some called Strider. He knows our business and will help you. Make for Rivendell. There I hope we may meet again. If I do not come, Elrond will advise you.  
Yours in haste,  
GANDALF._

Next to the wizard's name was signed the rune for 'G'.

_P.S. Do NOT use it again, not for any reason whatever! Do not travel by night!  
P.P.S. Make sure that it is the real Strider. There are many strange men on the roads. His true name is Aragorn._

_All that is gold does not glitter,_  
_Not all those who wander are lost;  
The old that is strong does not wither,  
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.  
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,  
A light from the shadows shall spring;  
Renewed shall be the blade that was broken,  
The crownless again shall be king._

_P.P.P.S. I hope Butterbur sends this promptly. A worthy man, but his memory is like a lumber-room: thing wanted always buried. If he forgets, I shall roast him.  
Fare Well!_

Frodo read the letter himself then passed it onto his friends.

"Really, old Butterbur has made a mess of things!" He said. "He deserves roasting. If I had got this at once, we might all be safe in Rivendell by now. But what can have happened to Gandalf? He writes as if he was going into great danger."

"He has been doing that for many years." Aragorn said while Devin exchanged a knowing look with Kitty. Frodo turned and looked at the tall man thoughtfully, wondering about Gandalf's second postscript.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were Gandalf's friend at once?" He asked. "It would have saved time."

"Would it?" Aragorn asked. "Would any of you have believed me till now? I knew nothing of this letter. For all I knew, I had to persuade you to trust me without proofs, if I was to help you. In any case, I did not intend to tell you all about myself at once. I had to study _you_ first, and make sure of you. The Enemy has set traps for me before. As soon as I made up my mind, I was ready to tell you whatever you asked. But I must admit," he said with an odd laugh, "that I hoped you would take to me for my own sake. A hunted man sometimes wearies of distrust and longs for friendship. But there, I believe my looks are against me."

"Meh. I've seen worse." Kitty said, shrugging. One of her exes had been into Grunge.

"They are—at first sight at any rate." Laughed Pippin, relieved after reading Gandalf's letter. "But handsome is as handsome does, as we say in the Shire; and I daresay we shall all look much the same after lying for days in hedges and ditches." Kitty made a face, not at all looking forward to such an experience.

"It would take more than a few days, or weeks, or years, of wandering in the Wild to make you look like me." Aragorn replied. "And you would die first, unless you are made of sterner stuff than you appear to be." He didn't want them taking the journey to lightly and getting themselves into more trouble. Pippin subsided, but Sam remained undaunted, and he still eyed the ranger dubiously.

"How do we know you are the Strider that Gandalf speaks about?" Sam demanded. "You never mentioned Gandalf, till this letter came out; and he didn't make no mention of them." He nodded in Devin and Kitty's direction. "You might be play-acting spy, for all I can see, trying to get us to go with you. You might have done in the real Strider and took his clothes. What have you to say to that?"

"That you are a stout fellow," answered Aragorn, "but I am afraid my only answer to you, Sam Gamgee, is this. If I had killed the real Strider, I could kill _you_. And I should have killed you already without so much talk. If I was after the Ring, I could gave it—_now!"_ He stood up and seemed suddenly to grow taller. In his eyes gleamed a light, keen and commanding. Throwing back his cloak, he laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. The hobbits didn't dare move. Sam sat wide-mouthed, staring at him dumbly. "But I _am_ the real Strider, fortunately." Aragorn continued, looking down at them with his face softened by a sudden smile. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn; and if by life or death I can save you, I will."

"And we're travelers from a distant land looking for a way home. I am Devin Gladwin, and my friend here is Kitty Larson." Devin added, riding on the curtails of his speech. "Gandalf didn't mention us because he doesn't know about us, but we know about him, and the special item you carry. Since we also have need to seek counsel with the wizard and Lord Elrond, we would appreciate being allowed to tag along. In return, we will help Aragorn protect you to the best of our abilities."

"But preferably not to the death. Ow." Kitty said, wincing slightly when Devin stepped on her foot for making such an unnecessary comment.

"Anyway, don't worry about Gandalf. He can take care of himself." Devin said. "I'm sure you'll be able to see him again once we reach Rivendell."

There was a long silence while the hobbits considered all that they had just heard. At last Frodo spoke with hesitation.

"I believed that you were friends before the letter came," he said, "or at least I wished to. You have frightened me several times tonight, but never in a way that servants of the Enemy would, or so I imagine. I think one of his spies would—well, seem fairer and feel fouler, if you understand."

"I see." Aragorn laughed. These hobbits were pretty bold.

"So we look foul and feel fair. Is that it?" Devin asked with a wry smile, slightly chagrined.

"Oi, we'd better _not_ be included in that." Kitty quipped, frowning slightly. They didn't look that bad, did they?

"Well, with Sam's permission, we will call that settled." Aragorn said decisively. "I shall be your guide, and these girls shall help in whatever way they can. We shall have a rough road tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Into the Wild  
**

* * *

After setting up a nice decoy for the enemy in the hobbits' room, they prepared themselves for bed and tucked themselves in for the night. Since the bed was large and the hobbits and Devin were small, all five of them could fit in it laying at opposite ends with their feet touching in the middle. Devin kept her soaks on so their hairy hobbit feet wouldn't tickle her, because as much as she liked hobbits, that would just be kind of weird. Kitty had stretched out on the floor with a blanket and pillow near the fireplace, while Aragorn sat in the armchair beside the window, keeping watch. Devin felt like she had been trying to sleep for hours, but she just couldn't, so she gave up and turned on her stomach to face Aragorn since Kitty was out like a light.

"Can't sleep?" Strider asked quietly when he felt her stare.

"No. To be honest, there's something that's bothering me." She answered lowly. "Do you remember how I told you we knew of certain portents and prophecies regarding this world?"

"Yes." He said, though he had been certain she had only said 'land' before, not world.

"Well, these… prophecies… they tend to be very specific, and I've noticed some discrepancies between what should have been and what actually came to pass. The end result was the same, but I can't help being bothered by it. It makes me wonder what else may have changed…"

"I see. Well, foretelling the future is not an exact art." Aragorn said reasonably.

"And you would know." She said, smiling knowingly at him. In the books, he had a limited gift of foresight due to his heritage.

"Yes, I suppose I would." He replied with a slight smile.

"But I was really surprised to see that you've already had Narsil reforged." She added. Aragorn blinked and stared at her, a little caught off guard by such a statement.

"What makes you say that?" He asked.

"Earlier, when you drew your sword, it was in one piece, but Narsil was supposed to still be broken according to what we know." She replied.

"It is still broken." He told her. Devin furrowed her brow in confusion. "The shards of Narsil are in Rivendell, where they are being kept under the care and protection of Lord Elrond."

Devin stared at him for a moment with furrowed brow, obviously troubled by what she had just heard.

"You should ask him to have it reforged for you." She said after awhile.

"Why?" He asked. "I have no need of such an heirloom from Isildur as proof of my heritage when I have no intention of becoming king. Or did your prophecy tell you otherwise?"

"I don't want to give too much away and end up spoiling the ending for you, but I will say this, Aragorn. You will need that sword before the end. Whether you wish to follow my advice or not is your choice." She said, frowning, slightly in disappointment as she turned away and lack back in bed. That hadn't been Aragorn's attitude in the book. He should have been on his way to Rivendell have the broken sword reforged as well as to escort Frodo and the others. Aragorn had not had the doubt she saw flicker briefly in his eyes at the thought of becoming king. In the book, he had been more prepared to fulfill his destiny, he had just been waiting for the right time. This version of Middle Earth was different. "For better or worse." She mumbled aloud, closing her eyes.

Aragorn stared at the strange girl for a moment longer, pondering her cryptic words, before glancing back out the window. They way she seemed to speak in riddles half the time reminded him of Gandalf. Perhaps that was part of the reason why he had been so quick to decide to give the girls a chance…

Devin hadn't been sleeping for long when several blood-curdling screeches pierced the night, startling her and the hobbits awake. Kitty was still fast asleep, drooling into her pillow. Nothing short of a bucket of cold water in the face could wake that girl up before she was ready to.

"Was that the Black Riders?" Devin asked warily. The sound alone sent shivers down her spine.

"What are they?" Frodo asked. Aragorn glanced at them.

"They were once men." He replied. "Great kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question. One by one, falling into darkness." Aragorn glanced back out the window as another terrible screech was heard and watched as the Black Riders remounted their black steeds and took off into the night, leaving Bree without their quarry. "Now they are slaves to his will." He glanced back at them once the wraiths were gone. "They are the Nazgûl. Ringwraiths. Neither living nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."

—/-|-\—

Despite Aragorn's ominous warning, the hobbits and Devin soon fell asleep again and didn't awake again until they heard a cock crowing rather enthusiastically in the inn-yard. They slowly sat up and began rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Aragorn pushed back the shutters with a clang. The first grey light of day was in the room, and a cold air was coming through the open window. Everyone but Devin started when a strange continuous beeping sound was suddenly heard. Aragorn glanced around the room and realized it was coming from the black rectangular device that a very drowsy Kitty was now pulling out from underneath her pillow. She had set an alarm on her smart-phone before going to bed since that was just about the only thing that could get her up short of an ice cube down the back of her shirt most mornings.

"Alright, I heard you already! Shut up!" She snapped moodily at the odd device as she stabbed at the screen with her index finger, canceling it before she gave in to the urge to throw it against a wall.

"What was that?" Merry asked as the hobbits all stared at her with wide eyes. "This, my dear hobbits, is a smart-phone. A magical device that can be used to do almost anything imaginable from waking you up in the morning to playing all your favorite songs and games. You can even use to talk to friends and family hundreds of miles away… _usually._ Unfortunately, there's no cell service out here." The hobbits blinked while Devin face-palmed and shook her head. What was she doing? What happened to trying to keep a low profile until they could get home?

"So, it's magic? Are you two wizards, then?" Pippin asked.

"No, she's messing with you. It's just an advanced piece of technology from our homeland. There's no magic involved." Devin explained. Besides, there's no way they could be wizards since they were all, without exception, actually Maiar sent to Middle Earth in the form of old men as a way to limit their power. But she was pretty sure the hobbits didn't know that, and they had enough to worry their curly little heads about already. As soon as they were all up and about, Aragorn led the way to the hobbits' bedroom. When they saw its state, they were glad they had taken his advice: the windows had been forced open and were swinging, and the curtains were flapping; the beds were tossed about, and the bolsters left in their places were slashed and flung upon the floor.

"Wow. They must've been pissed after realizing they'd been tricked." Kitty remarked.

Aragorn immediately went to fetch the landlord. Poor Mr. Butterbur looked sleepy and frightened. He had hardly closed his eyes all night (so he said), but he had never heard a sound.

"Never has such a thing happened in my time!" He cried, raising his hands in horror. "Guests unable to sleep in their beds, and good bolsters ruined and all! What are we coming to?"

"Dark times." Aragorn replied. "But for the present, you may be left in peace, when you have gotten rid of us. We will leave at once. Never mind about breakfast—a drink and bite standing will have to do. We shall be packed in a few minutes."

Mr. Butterbur hurried off to see to that their ponies were got ready, and went to fetch them a 'bite'. Kitty was just about to point out that she and Devin didn't have anything to ride, when Butterbur soon came rushing back in dismay. They ponies had vanished! The stable doors had all been opened in the night, and they were gone—not only Merry's ponies, but every other horse and beast in the place.

Frodo was crushed by the news, clearly wondering how they could possibly hope to reach Rivendell on foot while pursued by mounted enemies, but Kitty noticed Devin didn't seem at all surprised by this turn of events. Must've happened in the book, too. Honestly, she didn't remember too much about this part. She had skimmed ahead to the more actiony bits.

"Ponies would not help us to escape the horsemen." Aragorn said at last after giving further thought to the situation, as if he had guessed what Frodo was thinking. "We should not go much slower on foot, not on the roads I mean to take. I was going to walk in any case. It is the food and stores that trouble me. We cannot count on getting anything to eat between here and Rivendell, except what we take with us; and we ought to take plenty to spare; for we may be delayed, or forced to roundabout, far out of the direct way. How much are you prepared to carry on your backs?"

"As much as we must." Pippin said with a sinking heart, but trying to show that he was tougher than he looked (or felt).

"Well, Kitty and I are used to carrying up to sixty pounds thanks to all our heavy school books, and we're used to marching relatively long distances, so we could probably take a little more on." Devin said.

"Great. This is going to be like band camp training all over again." Kitty muttered darkly under her breath.

"I can carry enough for two." Sam said defiantly.

"Can't anything be done, Mr. Butterbur?" Frodo asked. "Can't we get a couple of ponies in the village, or even hire one just for the baggage? I don't suppose we could hire them, but we might be able to buy them." He added doubtfully, wondering if he could afford it. Kitty quickly put her hands over her earrings, covering them protectively. No way was she trading these babies; they were her favorite pair!

"I doubt it." Butterbur said unhappily. "The two or three riding-ponies that were in Bree were stabled in my yard, and they're gone. As for the other animals, horses or ponies for draught or what not, there are very few of them in Bree, and they won't be for sale. But I'll do what I can. I'll rout out Bob and send him round as soon as may be."

"Yes," said Aragorn reluctantly, "you had better do that. I am afraid we shall have to try and get one pony at least. But so ends all hope of starting early and slipping away quietly. We might as well have blown a horn to announce our departure. That was their plan, no doubt."

"There is one crumb of comfort." Merry said. "And more than a crumb, I hope: we can have breakfast while we wait—and sit down to it. Let's get hold of Nob!"

—/-|-\—

In the end there was more than three hours delay. Bob had come back with the report that no horse or pony was to be got for love or money in the neighborhood—except one: Bill Ferny had one he might possibly sell, but he was known to be a thoroughly unscrupulous man, whom they had also noticed had been watching the hobbits while conspiring with a an ill-looking Southerner the previous evening. They suspected he might have had a hand in helping to sabotage them. It was a poor old half-starved creature.

"Bill Ferny?" Frodo said. "Isn't there some trick? Wouldn't the beast bolt back to him with all our stuff, or help in tracking us, or something?"

"I wonder," said Aragorn, "but I cannot imagine any animal running home to him, once it got away. I fancy this is only an afterthought of kind Master Ferny's—just a way of increasing his profits from the affair. The chief danger is that the poor beast is probably at death's door. But there does not seem to be any choice. What does he want it for?"

Bill Ferny's price was twelve silver pennies, at least three times the pony's value in those parts. It proved to be a bony, underfed, and dispirited animal; but it did not look like dying just yet. Mr. Butterbur paid for it himself, and offered Merry another eighteen pence as some compensation for the lost animals. He was an honest man, and well-off as things were reckoned in Bree; but thirty silver pennies was a sore blow to him, and being cheated by Bill Ferny made it harder to bear. The blame for the rest of the missing horses ended up falling on the squinty-eyed southerner once it became known that he had disappeared as well during the night, so Butterbur managed to avoid being harassed too much by the other guests when they came looking for their rides.

After breakfast, the hobbits had to repack and get together further supplies for the longer journey they were now expecting. The girls managed to squeeze a couple more things into their own pack after removing Kitty's trumpet case (which she never went anywhere without) and an open pack of Jammie Dodgers that were still waterlogged and just completely beyond saving.

"Let us never forget, that the Doctor once attempted to save the universe by passing one of these off as a self-destruct button for the TARDIS." Kitty said dramatically, sniffing, as they performed last rites for their tasty snack and lowered it down into the waste basket.

"I know. It's always hard to loose a good snack, isn't it?" Pippin said sympathetically, patting them on the back. He didn't understand the fandom reference, but he knew good food when he saw it.

It was close to ten o'clock when they finally set off. By that time, the whole of Bree was buzzing with excitement. Frodo's vanishing trick; the appearance of the black horsemen; the robbing of the stables; and not the least the news that Strider the Ranger had joined the mysterious hobbits, made such a tale as would last for many uneventful years. The road was crowded with people who were waiting to see the travellers start, and the other guests in the inn were at the doors or hanging out of the windows.

"Jeez, don't these people have anything better to do?" Kitty had asked before Devin reminded her that they probably didn't because there was no TV or internet in Middle Earth.

Aragorn had changed his mind, and he decided to leave Bree by the main road. Any attempt to set off across country at once would only make matters worse: half the inhabitants would follow them, to see what they were up to and to prevent them from trespassing. They said farewell to Nob and Bob, and took leave of Mr. Butterbur with many thanks.

"I hope we shall meet again someday, when things are merry once more." Said Frodo. "I should like nothing better than to stay in your house in peace for awhile."

Then they tramped off, anxious and downhearted, under the eyes of the crowd. Not all the faces were friendly, nor all the words that were shouted. Devin chose not to dignify such remarks with a response, but Kitty was only too happy to return the favor by flipping a few of them off. Aragorn seemed to be held in awe by most of the Bree-landers, and those he stared at shut their mouths and drew away. He walked in front with Frodo; next came Merry and Pippin; then Devin and Kitty; and last came Sam leading the pony, which was laden with as much of their baggage as they had the heart to give it. In fact, Kitty had taken one of the other packs to carry to spare the poor thing an extra thirty or forty pounds while Devin carried their pack. Kitty had a special place in her heart for horses since her family used to own a ranch back when they used to live in Texas. Actually, the poor pony already looked less dejected, as if it approved of the change in its fortunes and ownership.

After awhile, the hobbits took no notice of the inquisitive heads that peeped out of doors or popped over walls and fences as they passed. But as they drew near to the further gate, the girls saw a dark, ill-kept house behind a thick hedge—the last house in the village. In one of the windows they caught a glimpse of a sallow face with sly, slanting eyes, but it vanished at once. Frodo noticed it, too.

'So that's where that southerner is hiding!' he thought. 'He looks more than half like a goblin.'

Over the hedge another man was staring boldly at their group. He had heavy black brows, and dark, scornful eyes; his large mouth curled in a sneer. He was smoking a short black pipe. As they approached, he took it out of his mouth and spat.

"Morning, Longshanks!" he said. "Off early? Found some friends at last?" Aragorn nodded but did not answer. Devin rolled her eyes. That was _so_ middle school. She had to grab hold of her friend when she noticed Kitty was rolling up her sleeves and shooting laser eyes at the oily jerk, probably contemplating getting revenge for the poor abused pony. Devin was really tempted to let her, but it was better if they left as quickly and quietly as possible. She wasn't sure hoe effective the police or whatever kind of law enforcement Bree had might be, and she didn't want her to end up in jail with an assault charge while Aragorn and the hobbits continued on to Rivendell without them. "Morning my little friends! Ladies!" Ferny greeted the rest of them. "I suppose you know who you've taken up with? That's Stick-at-nought Strider, that is! Though I've heard other names not so pretty, watch out tonight!" Devin and Kitty both shot him a look of extreme disdain. "And you, Sammie, don't go ill-treating my poor pony! Pah!" He spat again. Sam turned quickly.

"And you, Ferny," he said, "put your ugly face out of sight, or it'll get hurt." With a sudden flick, quick as lightening, the apple he had been munching on left his hand and hit Bill square on the nose. He ducked to late, and curses came from behind the hedge. "Waste of a good apple, that was." Sam said regretfully and turned back to continue on, only to find himself face to face with a grinning Kitty.

"Have a biscuit, Sam." She told him, generously offering him a couple of Oreos from the package she had just retrieved from their backpack and opened up especially to reward him for his excellent aim. Sam accepted the cookies and found them to be quite delicious.

—/-|-\—

At last, they had left the village behind; and the escort of children and stragglers that followed them had gotten tired and turned back after they passed through the South-gate. They kept on along the Road for some miles, passing some of the houses and hobbit-holes of Staddle on the gentler southern slopes of Bree-hill; down in a deep hollow away north of the Road there were wisps of smoke that showed where Combe lay; Archet was hidden in the trees beyond. These humble sights might not mean much in the face of what was to come, but Devin found it fascinating to see all these places in person after having grown up hearing and reading about them. She couldn't wait to see Rivendell.

Unfortunately, the rest of the journey was not nearly as pleasant as its beginning had been. Aragorn soon announced that it was time to leave the road and led them into the Wild, down to a valley. It was actually rather pleasant. The sun was shining, clear but not too hot. The woods in the valley were still leafy and wholesome.

"Um, Strider." Devin said, tapping Aragorn on the shoulder. He paused and glanced back at her. "I think we're about to lose Kitty and the hobbits." She warned him, pointing back at the five hungry hippos who had abruptly decided to stop and start unpacking the cooking-ware.

"Gentlemen, Miss Kitty, we do not stop till nightfall." He reminded them.

"What about breakfast?" Pippin asked.

"You've already had it." Aragorn said.

"We've had one, yes." Pippin agreed. "What about second breakfast?"

"It's a legitimate mealtime for hobbits." Kitty quipped, supporting the idea of an early snack. Aragorn just turned away and started walking again, expecting them to take the hint and follow. Devin shrugged and sent them an apologetic look before turning and going after him. They needed really to keep moving. This wasn't some casual picnic they were on; they were being hunted by creepy Ringwraiths.

"I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip." Merry said as he and Kitty pulled their packs back on, and she grabbed her trumpet case; and Sam and Frodo put the pots back in the packs on the pony's back.

"What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them, doesn't he?" Pippin asked anxiously as he followed his cousin when he started walking.

"I wouldn't count on it." Merry told him.

"Whoa, heads up!" Kitty said when she spotted an apple flying towards them. Merry reached up and managed to catch it before it hit him in the face. He looked at the apple in his hand and handed it to Pippin, giving his cousin a pat on the back before continuing on his way. Pippin stared after his cousin and Kitty for a moment, wondering where the apple had come from, when another one came sailing through the air and bounced off his head. Pippin stumbled and glanced around bewilderedly, wondering where it had gone to.

"Pippin!" Merry called, urging him forward.

With the matter of second breakfast somewhat resolved, the group continued on without any further unscheduled stops. Aragorn guided them confidently among the many crossing paths, although left to themselves they would soon have been at a loss. He was taking a wandering course with many turns and doublings, to put off any pursuit. Whether because of his skill or some other reason, they saw no sign and heard no sound of any other living thing all that day: neither two-footed, except birds; nor four-footed, except one fox and a few squirrels. The girls bonded with the hobbits a bit more by discussing favorite foods and teaching them a few road trip games, which Aragorn allowed provided they promise to keep their voices down. The next day, they began to steer a steady course eastwards; and still all was quiet and peaceful. Devin and Kitty made supper and helped the hobbits discover the joy of pizza as a result. On the third day out from Bree they came out of the Chetwood. The land had been falling steadily, ever since they turned aside from the Road, and they now entered a a wide flat expanse of country, much more difficult to manage. They were far beyond the borders of the Bree-land, out in the pathless wilderness, and drawing nearer to the Midgewater Marshes. When the girls saw where they were headed, they paused momentarily to pull out some bug spray and quickly applied it to themselves and offered to share some with the others, but they declined, finding the smell offensive. The ground soon became damp, and in places boggy here in there they came upon pools, and wide stretches of reeds and rushes filled with the warbling of little hidden birds. They had to pick their way carefully to keep both dry-footed and on their proper course.

"You're sucha Disney princess." Kitty commented when she accidentally disturbed a group of concealed birds, and a small finch flew up and landed briefly on Devin's head before hopping off and taking flight once again. Aragorn and the hobbits didn't understand the reference, but both the girls seemed to find it rather amusing.

At first, they made fair progress, but as they went on, their passage became slower and more dangerous; their level of comfort began to plummet drastically. The marshes were bewildering and treacherous, and there was no permanent trail even for Rangers to find through their shifting quagmires. The flies began to torment them, and the air was full of cloud of midges that crept up their sleeves and breeches and into their hair. The only ones who were completely unaffected by the pests were Devin and Kitty, whom seemed to have some invisible force-field around them, as no midges dared to land on them. Aragorn was not so fortunate, but he bore his discomfort with grace and dignity. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of the poor hobbits, who were less used to coping with swarms of biting insects.

"I'm being eaten alive!" cried Pippin. "Midgewater! There are more midges than water!"

"What do they eat when they can't get hobbit_!_?" Merry asked, slapping his neck in an attempt to kill one or two of the ones currently biting him.

They spent a miserable day in this lonely and unpleasant country. Their camping-place was damp, cold, and uncomfortable; and the biting insects would not let them sleep until they had applied some of the foul-smelling bug spray, which stung when it hit wherever they had already been bitten. There were also abominable creatures haunting the reeds and tussocks that from the sound of them were evil relatives of the cricket. There were thousands of them, and they squeaked all around, _neek-breek, neek-breek,_ unceasingly all through the night, until the hobbits were nearly frantic. They didn't know how Aragorn and the girls could stand it.

The next day, the fourth, was little better, and the night almost comfortless. Though the Neekerbreekers (as Sam called them) had been left behind, the midges still pursued them; and they were beginning to run out of bug spray.

As Frodo lay, tired but unable to close their eyes, it seemed to him that far away there came a light in the eastern sky: it flashed and faded many times.

"What is that light?" Frodo asked Aragorn, who had risen, and was standing, gazing ahead into the night.

"I do not know." Aragorn answered. "It is too distant to make out. It is like lightening that leaps up from the hill-tops."

Devin, who was also awake, remained silent as she watched the distant light-show, knowing that it was most likely being caused by Gandalf, as he fought the Ringwraiths at Weathertop. She said nothing so as not to worry the others, for she knew Gandalf would be all right. He would make it safely to Rivendell ahead of them. Of course, some might think it would be better if they joined up with wizard sooner, but she wasn't sure what that would do to the story. Deciding when to interfere and when not to was difficult—it was like if you had gone back in time to WWII after Hitler was already born and in power; how would you help the allies without screwing up the timeline? If you told them they would win in the end, would they relax their guard and end up being defeated because they were too overconfident? What if you told them how to pull off the invasion of Normandy too soon, and they ended up losing a crucial battle? It was things like this that made Devin decide to take a leaf out of _Star Trek's_ book and start following the 'Prime Directive' of non-interference. It was true there were some events that seemed to have already gotten off-track somehow, such as Aragorn's unwillingness to fulfill his destiny and become king; and she knew she and Kitty might have to step in and help correct that, but aside from errors of that nature, they should try to keep their nose out of it as much as possible. Especially since they didn't plan on staying for long. They needed to go home; she was really worried about what might happen if Kitty ran out of her medicine…


	4. Chapter 4

I own nothing but my OC.

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**Chapter 4: Weathertop**

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They had not gone far on the fifth day when they left the last straggling pools and reed-beds of the marshes behind them. The land before them began steadily to rise again. Away in the distance eastward they could now see a line of hills. The highest of them was at the right of the line and a little separated from the others. It had a conical top, slightly flattened at the summit.

"That is Weathertop." Aragorn informed them. "The Old Road, which we have left far away on our right, runs to the south of it and passes not far from its foot. We might reach it by noon tomorrow, if we go straight towards it. I suppose we had better do so."

"What do you mean?" Frodo asked.

"I mean: when we do get there, it is not certain what we shall find. It is close to the Road." Aragorn said.

"But surely we were hoping to find Gandalf there?" Frodo said.

"Yes; but the hope is faint. If he comes this way at all, he may not pass through Bree, and so he may not know what we are doing. And anyway, unless we arrive almost together, we shall miss one another; it will not be safe for him or for us to wait there long. If the Riders fail to find us in the wilderness, they are likely to make for Weathertop themselves. It commands a wide view all around. Indeed, there are many birds and beasts in this country that could see us, as we stand here, from that hill-top. Not all the birds are to be trusted, and there are other spies more evil than they are." Aragorn explained.

The hobbits looked anxiously at the distant hills. Sam looked up into the pale sky, fearing to see hawks or eagles hovering over them with bright unfriendly eyes.

"You make me feel uncomfortable and lonesome, Strider!" He said.

"Aww." Kitty said, leaning down to give him a hug, making the hobbit blush.

"Just be wary of any black birds. Not everything with wings is an enemy. After all, Gandalf is friends with the eagles, isn't he? It was with their help that he, Bilbo, and Thorin's company were able to escape from a pinch during their adventure." Devin reminded them.

The hobbits took heart at that, knowing what she said to be true after having heard the very same thing from Bilbo on more than one occasion.

"What do you advise us to do?" Frodo asked Aragorn after a moment, getting back to the topic of Weathertop.

"I think," answered Aragorn slowly, as if he was not quite sure, "I think the best thing is go as straight eastward from here as we can, to make for the line of hills, not for Weathertop. There we can strike a path I know that runs at their feet; it will bring us to Weathertop from the north and less openly. Then we shall see what we shall see."

All day they plodded along, until the cold and early evening came down. The land became drier and more barren; but mists and vapors lay behind them on the marshes. A few melancholy birds were piping and wailing, until the round red sun sank slowly into the western shadows; then an empty silence fell. The hobbits thought of the soft light of sunset glancing through the cheerful windows of Bag End far away. And the girls thought of how they used to laze about on the Gladwin family's back porch, watching the light dance and shimmer on the surface of their small duck pond while the ducklings, Spock, Kirk, and McCoy swam and played together. Devin hoped the big neighborhood tomcat wasn't trying to eat them again. She had asked the neighbors to keep an eye on them, but that cat was a sneaky son of a kitten.

At the day's end they came to a stream that wandered down from the hills to lose itself in the stagnant marshland, and they went up along its banks while the light lasted. It was already night when they at last halted and made their camp under some stunted aldertrees by the shores of the stream. Ahead there loomed now against the dusky sky the bleak and treeless backs of the hills. That night they set a watch, and Aragorn, it seemed, did not sleep at all. The moon was waxing, and in the early night-hours a cold grey light lay on the land.

Next morning they set out again soon after sunrise. There was a frost in the air, and the sky was a pale clear blue. The hobbits felt refreshed, as if they had had a night of unbroken sleep. Already they were getting used to much walking on short commons—shorter at any rate than what in the Shire they would have thought barely enough to keep them on their legs. Pippin declared that Frodo was looking twice the hobbit he had been.

"Very odd," said Frodo, "considering there is actually a good deal less of me." This earned a chuckle from Kitty. "I hope the thinning process will not go on indefinitely, or I shall become a wraith."

"Do not speak of such things!" Aragorn scolded him quickly with a surprising earnestness.

The hills drew nearer. They made an undulating ridge, often rising almost to a thousand feet, and here and there falling again to clefts or passes leading into the eastern land beyond. Along the crest on the ridge the hobbits and girls could see what appeared to be the remains of green-brown walls and dikes, and in the clefts there still stood the ruins of old works of stone. By night they had reached the feet of the westward slopes, and there they camped. It was the night of the fifth of October, and they were six days out from Bree.

In the morning they found, for the first time since they had left the Chetwood, a track plain to see. Kitty praised the Lord. They turned and followed it southwards. It ran cunningly, taking a line that seemed chosen so as to keep as much hidden as possible from the view, both of the hilltops above and of the flats to the west. It dived into dells, and hugged steep banks; and where it passed over flatter and more open ground on either side of it there were lines of large boulders and hewn stones that screened travelers almost like a hedge.

"I wonder who made this path and what for." Merry said as they walked along one of these avenues, where the stones were unusually large and closely set. "I'm not sure that I like it: its has a—well, a rather barrow-wightish look. Is there any barrow on Weathertop?"

"No. There is no barrow on Weathertop, nor on any of these hills." Aragorn replied. "The Men of the west did not live here; though in their later days they defended the hills for awhile against the evil that came out of Angmar. This path was made to serve the forts along the walls. But long before, in the first days of the North Kingdom, they built a great watchtower on Weathertop, Amon Sûl they called it. It was burned and broken, and nothing remains of it now but a tumbled ring, like a rough crown on the old hill's head. Yet once it was tall and fair. It is told that Elendil stood there watching for the coming of Gil-galad out of the West, in the days of the Last Alliance." The hobbits gazed at Strider in wonder, but the girls were not surprised by his extensive knowledge of old lore in addition to the ways of the wild. Devin smiled softly as she brushed the tips of her fingers against one of the old stones.

"My mother would have loved this." She said. "She was an archaeologist: someone who specializes in the systematic study of past human life and culture by the recovery and examination of remaining material evidence, such as graves, buildings, tools, and pottery. She was really good at it. She'd bring me back souvenirs sometimes, bits of broken artifacts that weren't worth preserving in a museum, but that she couldn't bear to throw out. She said they were reminders of where we came from and how far we had come; that they were solid memories, moments of long-lost lives preserved in time."

"She must be worried about you," Pippin said, "your mother."

"No." Devin said, smiling sadly. "She isn't. She died soon after I entered high school, when I was thirteen." She let her hand dropped and continued walking on ahead, following the trail. The hobbits and Aragorn stared after. Pippin was sorry he had asked now. He hadn't meant to drag up bad memories. Aragorn stepped forward and silently walked beside the petite girl, saying nothing. He knew what is was like to lose one's mother. He glanced at her, and she glanced back up at him when she felt his stare; and he knew that she knew he understood. She gave him and appreciative smile before focusing her attention back on the path in front of them.

"Don't feel bad, Pippin." Kitty said, patting him on the shoulder as she and the hobbits also began slowly moving forward again. "Devin's tougher than she looks. She knows you didn't mean any harm, and she's not upset. She misses her mom—her dad, too, since both of them are gone now—but she doesn't let it get her down. She says it's better to have loved and lost than never to have been loved at all. When she thinks of her parents, she doesn't think of their deaths; she thinks of their life together and all the good times they had." She explained, flashing them a smile before jogging to catch up with the other two humans. "Devin, I'm tired! carry me?" She teased her short friend as she threw her arms around her from behind, only half joking.

"Ack! Get off, Kitty—you're too heavy!" Devin exclaimed, stumbling under the combined weight of her friend and the bags they were both carrying. Aragorn smiled wryly at their antics but shushed them for being too loud. The hobbits smiled softly as they watched. They really were good friends, weren't they?

—/-|-\—

It was already midday when they drew near the southern end of the path, and saw before them, in the pale clear light of the of the October sun, a grey-green bank, leading up like a bridge on to the northward slope of the hill. They decided to make for the top at once, while the daylight was broad. Concealment was no longer possible, and they could only hope that no enemy or spy was observing them. Nothing was to be seen moving on the hill. If Gandalf was anywhere about, there was no sign of him.

On the western flank of Weathertop they found a sheltered hollow, at the bottom of which was there was a bowl-shaped dell with grassy sides. There they left Sam, Pippin, and Kitty with the pony and their packs and luggage. The other three went on. After half an hour's plodding climb Aragorn reached the crown of the hill; Devin, Frodo, and Merry followed, tired and breathless. The last slope had been steep and rocky.

On the top they found, as Aragorn had said, a wide-ring of ancient stone-work, now crumbling or covered with age-long grass. But in the center a cairn of broken stones had been piled. They were blackened as if with fire. About them the turf was burned to the roots and all within the ring the grass was scorched and shriveled, as if flames had swept the hill-top; but there was no sign of anything living. Standing upon the rim of the ruined circle they saw all round below them a wide prospect, for the most part of lands empty and featureless, except for patches of woodland away to the south, beyond which they caught here and there the glint of distant water. Beneath them on this southern side there ran like a ribbon the Old Road, coming out of the West and winding down, until it faded behind a ridge of dark land to the east. Nothing was moving on it. Following its line eastward with their eyes, they saw the Mountains: the nearer foothills were brown and somber; behind them stood taller shapes of grey, and behind those again were high white peaks glimmering among the clouds.

"Well, here we are!" Merry said. "And very cheerless and uninviting it looks! There is no water and no shelter. And no sign of Gandalf. But I don't blame him not waiting—if he ever came here."

"I wonder." Aragorn said thoughtfully, looking around, while Devin moved closer to examine the cairn. "Even if he was a day or two behind us at Bree, he could have arrived here first. He can ride very swiftly when need presses."

"Hey, y'all." Devin called out, waving the ranger and two hobbits over. "What do you think of this?" She asked, holding out the stone from the top of the cairn. It was flatter than the others, and whiter, as if it had escaped the fire. Aragorn picked it up and examined it, turning it in his fingers.

"This has been handled recently." He said. "What do you think of these marks?" On the flat under-side Frodo saw some scratches: |" |||.

"There seems to be a stroke, a dot, and three more strokes." He remarked.

"The stroke on the left might be a G-rune with thin branches." Aragorn said. "It might be a sign left by Gandalf, though one cannot be sure. The scratches are fine, and they certainly look fresh. But the marks might mean something quite different, and have nothing to do with us. Rangers use runes, and they come here sometimes."

"What could they mean, if Gandalf made them?" Merry asked.

"I would say that they stood for G 3, and are a sign that Gandalf was here on October the 3rd, three days ago." Devi said.

"I agree." Aragorn said. "It would also show that he was in a hurry and dangers was at hand, so that he had no time or did not dare to write anything longer or plainer. If that is so, we must be wary."

"I wish we could feel sure that he made the marks, whatever they may mean." Frodo said. "It would be a great comfort to know that he was on the way, in front of or behind us." Devin glanced sympathetically at him and paced a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sure he is." She said. "I'd bet he's on his way to Rivendell as we speak."

"Perhaps." Said Aragorn. "For myself, I believe that he was here, and was in danger. There have been scorching flames here; and now the light that we saw three nights ago in the eastern sky comes back to mind. I guess that he was attacked on this hill-top, but with what result I cannot tell. He is here no longer, and we must now look after ourselves and make our own way to Rivendell, as best we can."

"How far is Rivendell?" Merry asked, gazing around wearily. The world looked wild and wide from Weathertop.

"I don't know if the Road has ever been measured in miles beyond the _Forsaken Inn_, a day's journey east of Bree." Aragorn answered. "Some say it is so far, and some say otherwise. It is a strange road, and folk are glad to reach their journey's end, whether the time is long or short. But I know how long it would take me on my own feet, with fair weather and no ill fortune; twelve days from here to the Ford of Bruinen, where the Road crosses the Loudwater that runs out of Rivendell. We have at least a fortnight's journey before us, for I do not think we shall be able to use the Road."

"A fortnight!" said Frodo. "A lot may happen in that time." That would be two weeks.

"It may." Aragorn agreed.

'It _will_.' Devin thought, biting her lip. She wished she could warn Frodo of what was coming, but again, she wasn't sure what would happen if she did. The only comfort was that she could at least be sure that he would survive.

They stood silent for awhile on the hill-top, near its southward edge. As Devin stared down at the Road, suddenly she felt a vague sense of dread and became aware that two black specks were moving slowly along it, heading westward; and looking again, saw that three others were creeping eastward to meet them. She gasped and immediately ducked down low to the ground.

"Look!" She whispered urgently to the others, pointing downward. At once Aragorn flung himself on the ground beside her behind the ruined circle, pulling Frodo and Merry down with him.

"What is it?" Merry whispered.

"I do not know, but I fear the worst." Aragorn replied lowly. Slowly they crawled up to the edge of the ring again, and peered through a cleft between two jagged stones. The light was no longer bright, for the clear morning had faded, and clouds creeping out of the East had now overtaken the sun, as it began to go down. They could see all the black specks, but neither Devin, Frodo, nor Merry could make out their shapes for certain; yet something told them that there, far below, were Black Riders assembling on the Road beyond the foot of the hill.

"Yes." Said Aragorn, whose keener sight left him no doubt. "The enemy is here!" Hastily they crept away and slipped down the northern side of the hill to find their companions.

Sam, Pippin, and Kitty had not been idle. They had explored the small dell and the surrounding slopes. Not far away they found a spring of clear water in the hillside, and near it they found the footprints not more than a day or two old. In the dell itself they found recent traces of a fire, and other signs of a hasty camp. There were some fallen rocks on the edge of the dell nearest to the hill. Behind them, Sam came upon a small store of neatly stacked firewood.

"I wonder if old Gandalf has been here." He said to Pippin and Kitty. "Whoever it was that put this stuff here meant to come back it seems."

Aragorn was greatly interested in these discoveries.

"I wish I had waited and explored the ground down here myself." He said, hurrying off to the spring to examine the footprints. "It is just as I feared." Aragorn said, when he returned. "The three of them have trampled the soft ground, and the marks are spoilt and confused." 'Oops, my bad.' Kitty mouthed quietly as he continued. "Rangers have been here lately. It is they who left the firewood behind. But there are also several newer tracks that were not made by Rangers. At least one set was made, only a day or two ago, by heavy boots. At least one. I cannot now be certain, but I think there were many booted feet." He paused and stood in anxious thought. Devin and Kitty exchanged a knowing and troubled look. _That _scene was coming.

Each of the hobbits saw in his mind a vision of the cloaked and booted Riders. If the horsemen had already found the dell, the sooner Strider led them somewhere else the better. Sam viewed the hollow with great dislike, now that he had heard news of their enemies on the Road, only a few miles away.

"Hadn't we better clear out quick, Mr. Strider?" he asked impatiently. "It's getting late, and I don't like this hole: it makes my heart sink somehow."

"Yes, we certainly must decide what to do at once." Answered Aragorn, looking up and considering the time and the weather. "Well, Sam," he said at last, "I do not like this place either; but I cannot think of anywhere better that we could reach by nightfall. At least we are out of sight for the moment, and if we moved we should be much more likely to be seen by spies. All we could do would be to go right out of our way back north on this side of the line of hills, where the lad is much the same as it is here. The Road is watched, but we should have to cross it, if we tried to take cover in the thickets away to the south. On the north side of the Road beyond the hills the country is bare and flat for miles."

"Is there no escape then?" asked Frodo, looking around wildly. "If I move I shall be seen and hunted! If I stay, I shall draw them to me!"

"Just chill, dude." Kitty said carelessly, digging though Devin's backpack. "Here, you can have a piece of our last Snickers."

"There is still hope." Aragorn said, laying a hand on the distressed hobbit's shoulder. "You are not alone. Let us take this wood that is set ready for the fire as a sign. There is little shelter or defense here, but the fire shall serve for both. Sauron can put fire to his evil uses, as he can all things, but these Riders do not love it, and fear those who wield it. Fire is our friend in the wilderness."

"Maybe." Muttered Sam. "It's also as good a way of saying 'here we are' as I can think of, bar shouting."

"But if they find us, and we don't have a fire already going, we may not even live long enough to regret it." Devin said grimly.

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Please review... it makes me feel good. And here's a bunny for everyone still reading:

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	5. Chapter 5

I own nothing but my OC.

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**Chapter 5: A Knife in the Dark**

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Down in the lowest and most sheltered corner of the dell they lit a fire, and prepared a meal. The shades of evening began to fall, and it grew cold. They were suddenly aware of great hunger, for had not eaten anything since breakfast save for the Snickers bar, which they had divided up amongst themselves; but they dared not make more than a frugal supper. The lands ahead were empty of all save birds and beasts, unfriendly places deserted by all the races of the world. Rangers passed at times beyond the hills, but they were few and did not stray other wanderers were rare, and of an evil sort: trolls might stray down times out of the northern valleys of the Misty Mountains. Only on the Road would travelers be found, most often dwarves, hurrying along on business of their own, and with no help and few words to spare for strangers.

"I don't see how our food can be made to last." Said Frodo. "We have been careful enough in the last few days, and this supper is no feast; but we have used more than we ought, if we have two weeks still to go, and perhaps more."

"There is food in the world," Aragorn said; "berry, root, and herb; and I have some skill as a hunter at need. You need not be afraid of starving before winter comes. But gathering and catching food is long and weary work, and we need haste. So tighten your belts, and think with hope of the tables of Elrond's house!"

"There'd better be a _big_ feast waiting for us." Kitty mumbled dejectedly, rubbing her empty stomach. "At least now we know a sure way of losing weight, I guess." Not that they really needed to lose any in the first place.

The cold increased as darkness came on. Peering out from the edge of the dell they could see nothing but a grey land now vanishing quickly into shadow. The sky above had cleared again and was slowly filled with twinkling stars. The girls and the hobbits were huddled together around the fire, wrapped in every garment and blanket they possessed; but Aragorn was content with a single cloak, and sat a little apart, drawing thoughtfully at his pipe. As night fell and the light of the fire began to shine out brightly he began to tell them tales to keep their minds from the cold and fear. He knew many histories and legends of long ago, of Elves and Men and the good and evil deeds of the Elder Days. It was a nice refresher course for the girls. The hobbits wondered how old he was, and where he had learned all this lore.

"Tell us of Gil-galad." Merry said suddenly, when Aragorn paused at the end of a story of the Elf-Kingdoms. "Do you know anymore of that old lay you spoke of?"

"I do indeed." Aragorn answered. "So also does Frodo, for it concerns us closely." Merry and Pippin looked at Frodo, who was staring into the fire.

"I only know the little that Gandalf has told me." Frodo began slowly. "Gil-galad was the last of the great Elf-Kings of Middle Earth. Gil-galad is _starlight_ in their tongue. With Elendil, the Elf-friend, he went to the land of—"

"No!" Aragorn said, interrupting. "I do not think that tale should be told now with the servants of the Enemy at hand. If we win through to the house of Elrond, you may hear it there, told in full."

"Then tell us some other tale of the old days," begged Sam; "a tale about the Elves before the fading time. I would dearly like to hear more about Elves; the dark seems to press round so close."

"I will tell you the tale of Tinúviel," Aragon said, "in brief—for it is a long tale of which the end is not known; and there are none now, except Elrond, that remember it aright as it was told of old. It is a fair tale, though it is sad, as are all tales of Middle-earth, and yet it may lift up your hearts." He was silent for some time, and then he began not to speak but to chant softly:

_The leaves were long, the grass was green,_  
_The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,  
And in the glade a light was seen  
Of stars in shadow shimmering.  
Tinúviel was dancing there  
To music of a pipe unseen,  
And light of stars was in her hair,  
And in her raiment glimmering._

Kitty and Devin began to relax, lulled by the soothing rhythm of his deep voice. It was like they were children again, safe and warm and listening to Devin's father telling them a story.

_There Beren came from mountains cold,_  
_And lost he wandered under leaves,_  
_And where the Elven-river rolled_  
_He walked alone and sorrowing._  
_He peered between the hemlock-leaves_  
_And saw in wonder flowers of gold_  
_Upon her mantle and her sleeves,_  
_And her hair like shadow following._

_Enchantment healed his weary feet_  
_That over hills were doomed to roam;_  
_And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,_  
_And grasped at moonbeams glistening._  
_Through woven woods in Elvenhome_  
_She lightly fled on dancing feet,_  
_And left him lonely still to roam_  
_In the silent forest listening._

_He heard there oft the flying sound_  
_Of feet as light as linden-leaves,_  
_Or music welling underground,_  
_In hidden hollows quavering._  
_Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,_  
_And one by one with sighing sound_  
_Whispering fell the beachen leaves_  
_In the wintry woodland wavering._

_He sought her ever, wandering far_  
_Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,_  
_By light of moon and ray of star_  
_In frosty heavens shivering._  
_Her mantle glinted in the moon,_  
_As on a hill-top high and far_  
_She danced, and at her feet was strewn_  
_A mist of silver quivering._

Kitty felt her eyes grow heavy, but Devin nudged her to keep her awake. It was dangerous (not to mention rude) to sleep when they knew what was coming.

_When winter passed, she came again,_  
_And her song released the sudden spring,_  
_Like rising lark, and falling rain,_  
_And melting water bubbling._  
_He saw the elven-flowers spring_  
_About her feet, and healed again_  
_He longed by her to dance and sing_  
_Upon the grass untroubling._

_Again she fled, but swift he came._  
_Tinúviel! Tinúviel!_  
_He called her by her elvish name;_  
_And there she halted listening._  
_One moment stood she, and a spell_  
_His voice laid on her: Beren came,_  
_And doom fell on Tinúviel_  
_That in his arms lay glistening._

_As Beren looked into her eyes_  
_Within the shadows of her hair,_  
_The trembling starlight of the skies_  
_He saw there mirrored shimmering._  
_Tinúviel the elven-fair,_  
_Immortal maiden elven-wise,_  
_About him cast her shadowy hair_  
_And arms like silver glimmering._

_Long was the way that fate them bore,  
O'er stony mountains cold and grey,  
Through halls of ireon and darkling door,  
And woods of nightshade morrowless.  
The Sundering Seas between them lay,  
And yet at last they met once more,  
And long ago they passed away  
In the forest singing sorrowless._

Aragorn sighed and paused before he spoke again and began to explain the verses he had just recited for them. "That is a song," he said, "in the mode that is called _ann-thennath_ among the Elves, but is hard to render in our Common Speech, and this is but a rough echo of it. It tells of the meeting of Beren son of Barahir and Lúthien Tinúviel. Beren was a mortal man, but Lúthien was the daughter of Thingol, a King of Elves upon Middle Earth when the world was young; and she was the fairest maiden that has ever been among all the children of this world. As the stars above the mists or the Northern lands was her lovliness, and in her face was a shining light. In those days the Great Enemy, of whom Sauron of Mordor was but a servant, dwelt in Angband in the North, and the Elves of the West coming back to Middle Earth made war upon him to regain the Silmarils which he had stolen; and the fathers of Men aided the Elves. But the enemy was victorious and Barahir was slain, and Beren escaping through great peril came over the Mountains of Terror into the hidden Kingdom of Thingol in the forest of Neldoreth. There he beheld Lúthien singing and dancing in a glade beside the enchanted river Esgalduin; and he named her Tinúviel, that is Nightingale in the language of old. Many sorrows befell them afterwards, and they were parted long. Tinúviel rescued Beren from the dungeons of Sauron, and together, and together they passed through great dangers and cast down even the Great Enemy from his throne, and took one of the three Silmarils, brightest of all jewel, to be the bride-piece of Lúthien to Thingol her father. Yet at the last Beren was slain by the Wolf that came from the gates of Angband, and he died in the arms of Tinúviel. But she chose mortality, and to die from the world, so that she might follow him; and it is sung that they met again beyond the Sundering Seas, and after a brief time walking alive once more in the green woods, together they passed, long ago, beyond the confines of this world. So it is that Lúthien Tinúviel alone of the Elf-kindred has died indeed and left the world, and they have lost her whom they most loved. But from her the lineage of the Elf-lords of old descended among Men. There live still those of whom Lúthien was the foremother, and it is said that her line shall never fail. Elrond of Rivendell is of that Kin. For of Beren and Lúthien was born Dior Thingol's heir; and of him Elwing the White whom Eärendil wedded, he that sailed his ship out of the world into the seas of heaven with the Silmaril upon his brow. And of Eärendil came the Kings of Númenor, that is Westernesse."

As Aragorn was speaking, they watched his strange eager face, dimly lit in the red glow of the fire. Above him was a black starry sky. Devin smiled slightly to herself as she stared up at it, knowing Aragorn was most likely thinking of Arwen, whom they said was the reappearance in likeness of Tinúviel because of her beauty. The waxing moon was climbing slowly above the hill that overshadowed them, and the stars above the hill-top faded. With the story ended, the hobbits and the girls moved and stretched.

"Cool story, bro." Kitty said, yawning. She was feeling sleepy and tired after another long day of walking and hiking.

"Look!" Merry said. "The moon is rising: it must be getting late." The others looked up as well. Even as they did so, they saw on the top of the hill something small and dark against the glimmer of the moonrise. It was perhaps only a large stone or jutting rock shown up by the pale light.

Sam and Merry got up and walked away from the fire. Kitty decided to follow them, hoping a brief stroll might help keep her awake and more alert.

"Don't go too far!" Devin cautioned them, furrowing her brow with concern. Frodo and Pippin glanced at her but remained seated in Silence. Aragorn was watching the moonlight on the hill intently. All seemed quiet and still, but Frodo felt a cold dread creeping over his heart, now that Strider was no longer speaking. He huddled closer to the fire. At that moment Sam, Merry, and Kitty came running back from the edge of the dell, looking spooked.

"I don't know what it is," Sam said, "but I suddenly felt afraid. I daren't go outside this dell for any money; I felt something was creeping up the slope."

"Did you _see_ anything?" Frodo asked, springing to his feet.

"No, sir. I saw nothing, but I didn't stop to look." Sam replied.

"I saw something," Merry said; "or I thought I did—away westwards where the moonlight was falling on the flats beyond the shadow of the hill-tops, I _thought_ there were two or three black shapes. They seemed to be moving this way."

"I saw them, too." Kitty added. "It felt like being in the presence of dementors or something. I need chocolate." She shuddered, wishing they still had some left.

"It's the Riders." Devin said, setting her jaw in a line of grim determination, preparing herself for what was to come.

"Keep close to the fire, with your faces outward!" Aragorn urgently instructed them. "Get some of the longer sticks ready in your hands!" He told the unarmed girls as the hobbits drew the long daggers they had received from Tom Bombadil.

For a breathless time they sat there, silent and alert, with their backs turned to the fire, each gazing into the shadows that encircled them. Nothing happened. There was no sound or movement in the night. Frodo stirred, feeling that he must break the silence: he longed to shout out loud.

"Hush!" whispered Aragorn.

"What's that?" gasped Pippin at the same moment.

Over the lip of the little dell, on the side away from the hill, they felt, rather than saw, a shadow rise, one shadow or more than one. It was difficult to tell. They strained their eyes, and the shadows seemed to grow. Soon there could be no doubt: three or four tall black figures were standing there on the slope, looking down on them. So black were they that they seemed like black holes in the deep shade behind them. Devin thought she heard a faint hiss as of venomous breath and felt a thin piercing chill. Then the shapes slowly advanced.

Kitty freaked out and threw the stick in her hands at them before turning to rummage around in their backpack, searching frantically for the taser. Devin kept her stick in hand, while scooting back to join her in searching for a better weapon. Terror overcame Pippin and Merry, and they threw themselves flat on the ground. Sam shrank to Frodo's side. Frodo was hardly less terrified than his companions; he was quaking as if he was bitter cold, but his terror was swallowed up in a sudden temptation to put on the Ring. The desire to do this laid hold of him, and he could think of nothing else. He did not forget the Barrow, nor the message of Gandalf; but something seemed to be compelling him to disregard all warnings, and he longed to yield. Not with the hope of escape, or of doing anything, either good or bad: he simply felt he must take the ring and put it on his finger. He could not speak. He felt Sam looking at him, as if he knew that his master was in some great trouble, but he could not turn towards him. He shut his eyes and struggled for awhile; resistance became unbearable, and at last he slowly drew out the Ring and slipped it on the forefinger of his left hand.

"!" Sam gasped and jumped back, startled when Frodo suddenly vanished right next to him. Aragorn cursed under his breath and he rushed to light the torches he had been wrapping, while Devin gave up on the taser, grabbed the can of hairspray, and shoved her hand in her pocket to retrieve her father's old lighter.

_"O Elebereth! Gilthoniel!"_ They heard Frodo's voice cry out just before the foremost Rider let out a shrill cry that rang throughout the night, and stabbed at something before its feet; just as Devin leaped out holding the lighter out in front of her, flipping it open and igniting it as she thrust the hairspray forward and sprayed, torching the Rider with her impromptu flame-thrower. The Rider shrieked as its black robes caught fire and reeled back, flailing its arms as it dropped its sword. Aragorn immediately jumped out to join her with a flaming brand of wood in each hand to help ward off the others. Kitty ran forward and managed to shoot one with the taser, which surprisingly, actually appeared to have some affect on it, as it let out a shriek before retreating with the others. Kitty and Devin breathed heavily, panting, as they watched the retreating Riders with Aragorn, making sure they made a full retreat, before turning back to the others.

Frodo must have managed to slip the ring back off of his finger before he passed out, because he was fully visible again, and Sam, Merry, and Pippin were gathered round him, trying to wake him, deeply concerned.

"Move back. Give him space." Devin told them as she, Kitty, and Aragorn hurried over to check on him. "Strider, we need you! Frodo is still in danger!" Devin called out to him before he could leave to search the surrounding area and make sure the Riders were really gone and not waiting to ambush them again. Aragorn came rushing over and kneeled beside Frodo to examine his wound, becoming full of concern when he saw the extent of damage.

"Help him, strider!" Sam cried.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade." Aragorn said picking up Rider's discarded sword, looking deeply troubled, as the blade disintegrated before their eyes. He threw the accursed hilt down to the ground, frustrated that he had not been able to prevent this. "Move him closer to the fire. Keep the fire going well, and keep Frodo warm!" He instructed them. "I think I understand things better now." He said in a low voice. "Why they are not all here, I don't know; but I don't think they expected to be resisted. They have drawn back for the time being, but not far, I fear. They will come again another night, if we cannot escape. They are only waiting, because they think that their purpose is almost accomplished, and that the Ring cannot fly much further. I fear, Sam, that they believe your master has a deadly wound that will subdue him to their will."

Sam choked with tears.

"Don't despair!" Aragorn said. "You must trust me now. Your Frodo is made of sterner stuff than I had guessed, though Gandalf hinted that it might prove so. He is not slain, and I think he will resist the evil power of the wound longer than his enemies will expect. I will do all I can to help and heal him. Few now have the skill in healing to match such evil weapons, but I will do what I can."

"Will this help?" Devin asked, pulling out a plastic sandwich baggy stuffed full of _athelas_.

"Yes." Aragorn said eagerly, staring at her in wonder. "How did you come by this?"

"Sam was pointing out some plants he knew to me further back on the Road, and he said this was kingsfoil. I remembered hearing before that that was another name for the _athelas_ plant, so I picked it thinking it might come in handy." Devin explained quickly.

"It would seem your foresight is better than mine." Aragorn told her, accepting the bag gratefully. "You have just saved Frodo's life. Quickly, boil some water!"

"On it, boss!" Kitty said as she scrambled to get a pot and fill it with water while Merry and Pippin built up the fire some more.

"But that's a weed!" Sam cried. How could a weed save him?

Aragorn set aside the herbs for a moment and laid what was left of the Morgul blade on top of his knees. He sang over it a slow song in a strange tongue. Then setting it aside, he turned to Frodo and in a soft tone spoke words the others could not catch. From the plastic bag, he drew out the long leaves of the _athelas_, and crushed one in his fingers. It gave out a sweet and pungent fragrance. "This is not just a weed, Sam, for it is a healing plant that the Men of the West brought to Middle Earth; and it is not known in the North, except to some of those who wander in the Wild." He glanced sideways at Devin. "It has great virtues, but over such a wound as this its healing powers will be small."

"But it will be enough." Devin said with certainty. "Just do what you can for him until we can get him to Elrond."

Aragorn threw the leaves into the pot of boiling water and bathed Frodo's shoulder. The fragrance of the steam was refreshing, and those that were unhurt felt their minds calmed and cleared. Now that they had a chance to collect themselves and get their wits about them again, they began to discuss what they should do next considering the severity of Frodo's wound, and how they would now manage to continue their journey.

"I think now," Aragorn said once he had finished tending to Frodo's wound. "That the enemy has been watching this place for some days. If Gandalf ever came here, then he must have been forced to ride away, and he will not return. In any case, we are in great peril here after dark, and we can hardly meet greater danger wherever we go."

As soon as the daylight was full, they had some hurried food and packed. It was impossible for Frodo to walk, so they divided the greater part of the baggage amongst the six of them, and put Frodo on the pony. In the last few days the poor beast had improved wonderfully; it already seemed fatter and stronger, and had begun to show an affection for its new masters, especially Sam and Kitty. Bill Ferny's treatment must have been very hard for the journey in the wild to seem so much better than its former life. They started off in a southerly direction. This would mean crossing the Road, but it was the quickest way to more wooded country. And they needed fuel; for Aragorn said that Frodo must be kept warm, especially at night, while the fire would be some protection for them all. It was also his plan to shorten their journey by cutting across another great loop of the Road: east beyond Weathertop it changed its course and took a wide bend northwards.

They made their way slowly and cautiously round the southwestern slopes of the hill, and came in a little while to the edge of the Road. There was no sign of the Riders. But even as they were hurrying across they heard far away two cries: a cold voice calling and a cold voice answering. Trembling they sprang forward, and made for the thickets that lay ahead. The land before them sloped away southwards, but it was wild and pathless; bushes and stunted trees grew in dense patches with wide barren spaces in between. The grass was scanty, coarse, and grey; and the leaves in the thicket were faded and falling. It was a cheerless land, and their journey was slow and gloomy. They spoke little as they trudged along.

Frodo's heart was grieved as watched them walking beside him with their heads down, and their backs bowed under their burdens. Even Aragorn seemed tired and heavy-hearted. Before the first day's march was over, Frodo's pain began to grow again, but he did not speak of it for a long time.

Four days passed, without the ground or the scene changing much, except that behind them Weathertop slowly sank, and before them the distant mountains loomed a little nearer. Yet since that far cry they had seen and heard no sign that the enemy had marked their flight or followed them. They dreaded the dark hours, and kept watch in pairs by night, expecting at any time to see black shapes stalking in the grey night, dimly lit by the cloud-veiled moon; but they saw nothing and heard no sound but the sigh of withered leaves and grass. Not once did they feel the sense of present evil that had assailed them before the attack in the dell. It seemed too much to hope that the Riders had already lost their trail again. Perhaps they were waiting to make some ambush in a narrow place?


	6. Chapter 6

I own nothing but my OC.

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**Chapter 6: The Bridge and the Trolls  
**

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At the end of the fifth day the ground began once more to rise slowly out of the wide shallow valley into which they had descended. Aragorn now turned their course again north-eastwards, and on the sixth day they reached the top of a long slow-climbing slope, and saw far ahead a huddle of wooded hills. Away below them they could see the Road sweeping round the feet of the hills; and to their right a grey river gleamed pale in the thin sunshine. In the distance they glimpsed yet another river in a stony valley half-veiled in mist.

"I am afraid we must go back to the Road here for awhile." Said Aragorn. "We have now come to the River Hoarwell, that the Elves call Mitheithel. It flows down out of the Ettenmoors, the troll-fells north of Rvendell, and joins the Loudwater away in the South. Some call it the Grey-flood after that. It is a great water before it finds the sea. There is no way over it below its sources in the Ettenmoors, except by the Last Bridge on which the Road crosses."

"What is that other river we can see far away there?" Merry asked.

"That is Loudwater, the Bruinen of Rivendell." Aragorn replied. "The Road runs along the edge of the hills for many miles from the Bridge to the Ford of Bruinen. But I have not yet thought how we shall cross the water. One river at a time! We shall be fortunate indeed if we do not find the Last Bridge held against us."

Next day, early in the morning, they came down again to the borders of the Road. Sam and Aragorn went forward, but they found no sign of any travellers or riders. Here under the shadow of the hills there had been some rain. Aragorn judged that it had fallen two days before, and had washed away all footprints. No horseman had passed since then, as far as he could see. They hurried along with all the speed they could make, and after a mile or two they saw the Last Bridge ahead, at the bottom of a short steep slope. They dreaded to see black figures waiting there, but saw none. Aragorn made them all take cover in a thicket at the side of the Road, while he went forward to explore. Before long he came hurrying back.

"I can see no sign of the enemy," he said, "and I wonder very much what that means. But I have found something very strange." He held out his hand, and showed a single pale-green jewel. "I found it in the mud in the middle of the bridge. It is a beryl, an elf-stone." Devin and Kitty glanced at each other, eyes widening slightly. "Whether it was set there, or let fall by chance, I cannot say; but it brings hope to me. I will take it as a sign that we may pass the Bridge; beyond that I dare not keep to the Road, without some clearer token."

At once they went out again, in pairs, to make sure they could pass as quickly and quietly as possible. Naturally Sam went first, leading Frodo on the pony, followed by Merry and Pippin.

"Hey, Devin." Kitty whispered as they waited their turn for Aragorn to wave them across. "That light-green crystal you always wear around your neck… didn't you say before that it was some kind of beryl, too?"

"Yeah." Devin replied, nodding, as they quickly and carefully scampered across the open road and made for the bridge. "At least that's what my mom said when she gave it to me. She found it near the site of one of her last digs."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Kitty asked.

"That it's actually an elf-stone that somehow fell through a crack between our two universes, and it's probably the reason why we ended up here after falling into a river that runs through one of the few primordial forests still left in one of the oldest parts of the world?" Devin asked.

"See, this is why we're friends." Kitty said, grinning.

They crossed the Bridge in safety, hearing no sound but the water swirling against its three great arches. A mile further on they came to a narrow ravine that led away northwards through the steep lands on the left of the Road. Here Aragorn turned aside, and soon they were lost in a somber country of dark trees winding among the feet of sullen hills. The hobbits were glad to leave the cheerless lands and the perilous Road behind them; but this new country seemed threatening and unfriendly. As they went forward the hills about them steadily rose. Here and there upon heights and ridges they caught glimpses of ancient walls of stone, and the ruins of towers: they had an ominous look. Because he was not walking Frodo had time to gaze ahead and to think. He recalled Bilbo's account of his journey and the threatening towers on the hills north of the Road, in the country near the Troll's wood where his first serious adventure had happened. Frodo guessed that they were now in the same region, and wondered if by chance they would pass near the spot.

"Who lives in this land?" he asked. "And who built these towers? Is this troll-country?"

"No!" Aragorn said. "Trolls do not build. No one lives in this land. Men once dwelt here, ages ago; but none remain now. They became an evil people, as legends tell, for they fell under the shadow of Angmar. But all were destroyed in the war that brought the North Kingdom to its end. But that is now so long ago that the hills have forgotten them, though a shadow still lies on the land."

'And the Witch-king of Angmar still survives as the leader of the Nazgûl.' Devin thought.

"Where did you learn such tales, if all the land is empty and forgetful?" Pippin asked. "The birds and beasts do not tell tales of that sort."

"The heirs of Elendil do not forget all things past," said Aragorn; "and many more things than I can tell are remembered in Rivendell."

"Have you often been to Rivendell?" Frodo asked.

"I have." Aragorn said. "I dwelt there once, and I still return when I may. There my heart is; but it is not my fate to sit in peace, even in the fair house of Elrond."

The hills now began to shut them in. The Road behind held on its way to the River Bruinen, but both were now hidden from view. The travelers came into a long valley; narrow, deeply cloven, dark and silent. Trees with old and twisted roots hung over cliffs, and piled up behind into mounting slopes of pine-wood.  
The hobbits grew very weary. They advanced slowly, for they had to pick their way through a pathless country, encumbered by fallen trees and tumbled rocks. As long as they could they avoided climbing for Frodo's sake, because it was in fact difficult to find any way up out of the narrow dales.

They had been two days in this country when the weather turned wet. The wind began to blow steadily out of the West and pour the water of the distant seas on the dark heads of the hills in fine drenching rain. By nightfall they were all soaked, and their camp was cheerless, for they could not get any fire to burn. The next day the hills rose still higher and steeper before them, and they were forced to turn away northwards out of their course. Aragorn seemed to be getting anxious: they were nearly ten days out from Weathertop, and their stock of provisions was beginning to run low. It went on raining.  
That night they camped on a stony shelf with a rock wall behind them, in which there was a shallow cave, a mere scoop in the cliff. Frodo was restless. The cold and wet made his wound more painful than ever, and the ache and sense of deadly chill took away all sleep. He lay tossing and turning and listening fearfully to the stealthy night-noises: wind in chinks of rock, water dripping, a crack, the sudden rattling fall of a loosened stone. He felt that black shapes were advancing to smother him; but when he sat up he saw nothing but the back of Aragorn sitting hunched up, smoking his pipe, and watching. He lay down again and passed into an uneasy dream.

In the morning they woke to find that the rain had stopped. The clouds were still thick, but they were breaking, and pale strips of blue appeared between them. The wind was shifting again. They did not start early. Immediately after their cold and comfortless breakfast Aragorn went off alone, telling the others to remain under the shelter of the cliff, until he came back. He was going to climb up, if he could, and get a look at the lie of the land.  
When he returned he was not reassuring.

"We have come up too far to the north," he said, "and we must find some way to turn back southwards again. If we keep on as we are we shall get up into the Ettendales far north of Rivendell. That is troll-country, and little known to me. We could perhaps find our way through and come round to Rivendell from the north; but it would take too long, for I do not know the way, and our food would not last. So somehow or other we must find the Ford of Bruinen."

The rest of that day they spent scrambling over rocky ground. They found a passage between two hills that led them into a valley running south-east, the direction that they wished to take; but towards the end of the day they found their road again barred by a ridge of high land; its dark edge against the sky was broken into many bare points like teeth of a blunted saw. They had a choice between going back or climbing over it.  
They decided to attempt the climb, but it proved very difficult. Before long Frodo was obliged to dismount and struggle along on foot. Even so they often despaired of getting their pony up, or indeed of finding a path for themselves, burdened as they were. The light was nearly gone, and they were all exhausted, when at last they reached the top. They had climbed on to a narrow saddle between two higher points, and the land fell steeply away again, only a short distance ahead. Frodo threw himself down, and lay on the ground shivering. His left arm was lifeless, and his side and shoulder felt as if icy claws were laid upon them. The trees and rocks about him seemed shadowy and dim.

"We can't go any further." Merry said to Aragorn. "I'm afraid this has been too much for Frodo. I'm dreadfully anxious about him. What are we to do? Do you think they will be able to cure him in Rivendell, if we ever get there?"

"We shall see." Answered Aragorn. "There is nothing more that I can do in the wilderness; and it is chiefly because of his wound that I am so anxious to press on. But I agree that we can go no further tonight."

"What's the matter with him?" Sam asked in a low voice, looking appealingly at Aragorn. "His wound was small, and it's already closed. There's nothing to be seen but a cold white mark on his shoulder."

"Frodo has been touched by the weapons of the Enemy," Aragorn said, "and there is some poison or evil at work that is beyond my skill to drive out. But do not give up hope, Sam!"

Night was cold up on that high ridge. They lit a small fire down under the gnarled roots of an old pine, that hung over a shallow pit: it looked as if stone had once been quarried there. They sat huddled together. The wind blew chill through the pass, and they heard the tree-tops lower down moaning and sighing.

"It sounds like a sleeping dinosaur's down there." Devin commented, smiling wryly.

"Hey, yeah; it kind of does." Kitty remarked, also smiling.

"What's a dinosaur?" Pippin asked.

While the girls did their best to explain the concept of giant reptiles roaming the earth without scaring the hobbits too much, poor Frodo drifted off and lay in half a dream, imagining that endless dark dinosaurs with wings were sweeping by above him, and that on the winged-lizards rode pursuers that sought him in all the hollows of the hills.

The morning dawned bright and fair; the air was clean, and the light pale and clear in a rain-washed sky. Their hearts were encouraged, but they longed for the sun to warm their cold stiff limbs, especially the girls, who were used to a much warmer climate. As soon as it was light, Aragorn took Merry with him and went to survey the country from the height to the east of the pass. The sun had arisen and was shining brightly when he returned with more comforting news. They were now going more or less in the right direction. If they went on, down the further side of the ridge, they would have the Mountains on their left. Some way ahead Aragorn had caught a glimpse of the Loudwater again, and he knew that, though it was hidden from view, the Road to the Ford was not far from the River and lay on the side nearest to them.

"We must make for the Road again." He said. "We cannot hope to find a path through these hills. Whatever danger may beset it, the Road is our only way to the Ford."

As soon as they had eaten they set out again. They climbed slowly down the southern side of the ridge; but the way was much easier than expected, for the slope was far less steep on this side, and before long Frodo was able to ride again. Bill Ferny's poor old pony was developing an unexpected talent for picking out a path, and for sparing its rider as many jolts as possible. The spirits of the party rose again. Even Frodo felt better in the morning light, but every now and again a mist seemed to obscure his sight, and he passed his hands over his eyes. Pippin was a little ahead of the others. Suddenly he turned and called to them.

"There's a path down here!" he cried.

When they came up to him, they saw that he had made no mistake: there were clearly the beginnings of a path, that climbed with many windings out if the woods below and faded away on the hill-top behind. In places it was now faint and overgrown, or choked with fallen stones and trees; but at one time it seemed to have been much used. It was a path made by strong arms and heavy feet. Here and there old trees had been cut or broken down, and large rocks cloven or heaved aside to make way.  
They followed the track for some while, for it offered a much easier way down, but they went cautiously, and their anxiety increased as they came into the dark woods, and the path grew plainer and broader. Suddenly coming out of a belt of fir-trees it ran steeply down a slope, and turned sharply to the left round the corner of a rocky shoulder of the hill. When they came over the corner they looked round and saw that the path ran over a level strip under the face of a low cliff overhung with trees. In the stony wall there was a door hanging crookedly ajar upon one great hinge.  
Outside the door they all halted. There was a cave or rock chamber, but in the gloom inside nothing could be seen. Aragorn, Kitty, Devin, Sam, and Merry pushing with all their strength managed to open the door a little wider, and the Aragorn and Devin went in. Devin held up her phone, using the screen for light. It wasn't good for much else now. They did not go far, for on the floor lay many old bones, and nothing else was to be seen near the entrance except some great empty jars and broken pots.

"Surely this is a troll-hole, if ever there was one!" Pippin said.

"Come out, you two, and let's get away." Merry added. "Now we know who made the path—and we'd better get off it quick."

"There is no need, I think." Aragorn said as they came back out. "It is certainly a troll-hole, but it seems to have been long forsaken. I don't think we need be afraid. But let us go down warily, and we shall see."

The path went on again from the door, and turning to the right again across the level space plunged down a thick wooded slope. Pippin, not liking to show the others that he was still afraid, went on ahead with Merry. The girls were next followed by Sam and Aragorn, one on each side of Frodo's pony, for the path was now broad enough for four or five hobbits to walk abreast. But they had not gone very far before Pippin came running back, followed by Merry. They both looked terrified.

"There _are_ trolls!" Pippin panted. "Down in the clearing in the woods not far below. We caught sight of them through the tree trunks. They were very large!"

"Is there any other kind?" Kitty asked calmly, raising an eyebrow.

"We will come and look at them." Aragorn said, picking up a stick. Devin and Frodo said nothing, but Sam looked scared.

The sun was now high, and it shone down through the half-stripped branches of the trees, and lit the clearing with bright patches of light. They halted suddenly on the edge and peered through the tree trunks, holding their breath. There stood the trolls: three large trolls. One was stooping, and the other two stood staring at him. Aragorn walked forward unconcernedly.

"Get up, old stone!" he said and broke his stick upon the stooping troll.

Nothing happened. Devin let out a laugh while there was a gasp of astonishment from the hobbits and Kitty.

"Whoa… I think Strider just made a joke!" Kitty said, breaking out into a grin when she realized what was going on; and then even Frodo laughed.

"Well!" he said. "We are forgetting our family history! These must be the very three that were caught by Gandalf, quarreling over how to cook thirteen dwarves and one hobbit."

"I had no idea we were anywhere near the place!" Pippin remarked. He knew the story well. Bilbo and Frodo had told it often; but as a matter of fact he had never more than half believed it. Even now he looked at the stone trolls with suspicion, wondering if some magic might not suddenly bring them back to life again.

"You are forgetting not only your family history, but all you ever knew about trolls." Aragorn said. "It is broad daylight with a bright sun, and yet you come back trying to scare me with a tale of live trolls waiting for us in this glade!"

"In any case you might have noticed that one of them is rocking an old bird's nest behind his ear." Devin added smiling. "Unless he's a fan of the boho-chic look that would be a most unusual ornament for a live troll!"

They all laughed. They were getting used to the girls' strange way of speaking. Frodo felt his spirits reviving: the reminder of Bilbo's first successful adventure was heartening. The sun, too, was warm and comforting, and the mist before his eyes seemed to be lifting a little. They rested for some time in the glade, and took their mid-day meal right under the shadow of the troll's large legs.

"Won't someone give us a bit of a song, while the sun is high?" Merry asked when they had finished. "We haven't had a song or a tale for days."

"Not since Weathertop." Frodo said. The others looked at him. "Don't worry about me!" he added. "I feel much better, but I don't think I could sing. Perhaps Kitty or Devin could dig something out of their memories. We haven't heard any songs or tales from either of you this whole trip, aside from the occasional explanation of the strange devices you've brought with you."

"Yes. Why not sing us a song about your homeland?" Aragorn suggested. Kitty and Devin looked at each other. They had actually been avoiding telling them too much about their world for a reason, but they could tell by the look in Aragorn's eyes that he had figured as much and wasn't about to let them get out of it until they threw him a bone or two.

"Alright." Devin said at last. "But I don't sound any good on my own. Is it okay if Kitty accompanies me her trumpet?" Kitty's eyes lit up at the prospect of finally being able to play something again. She had been suffering some serious withdrawal.

"Very well." Aragorn consented. "But try not to play _too_ loudly."

"Yes!" Kitty cheered, pumping her fist in the air. "So what should we do?" She asked Devin.

"Well, they want to hear about our homeland, so… how about 'America the Beautiful'?" Devin suggested tentatively. That should be nice and comforting with the images of a wholesome countryside without giving too much (other than the geography and name) away.

"Yeah, I think I can swing that." Kitty said, grinning, as she finished setting up her instrument. "Count me in."

Devin held up four fingers and, nodding her head in time, she brought one down after the other. The moment the last finger was down, Kitty blew into her trumpet and let out a soft sweet note, beginning with a short intro before raising the volume and strength of her playing. It was a beautiful song with a warm and reverent tone. Kitty nodded for Devin to join in with her singing. Like silver bells Devin's clear soprano voice gently rang across the glade:

_O beautiful for spacious skies,_  
_For amber waves of grain,_  
_For purple mountain majesties_  
_Above the fruited plain!_  
_America! America!_  
_God shed his grace on thee_  
_And crown thy good with brotherhood_  
_From sea to shining sea!_

_O beautiful for pilgrim feet_  
_Whose stern impassioned stress_  
_A thoroughfare of freedom beat_  
_Across the wilderness!_  
_America! America!_  
_God mend thine every flaw,_  
_Confirm thy soul in self-control,_  
_Thy liberty in law!_

_O beautiful for heroes proved_  
_In liberating strife._  
_Who more than self their country loved_  
_And mercy more than life!_  
_America! America!_  
_May God thy gold refine_  
_Till all success be nobleness_  
_And every gain divine!_

_O beautiful for patriot dream_  
_That sees beyond the years_  
_Thine alabaster cities gleam_  
_Undimmed by human tears!_  
_America! America!_  
_God shed his grace on thee_  
_And crown thy good with brotherhood_  
_From sea to shining sea!_

Kitty gasped for air after blowing the last note. She felt a little out of breath after missing practice for so many days in a row. The hobbits stared at them in awe for a moment before applauding their performance.

"That was beautiful." Sam said, amazed. "I've never heard nothing like it before."

"Thanks, I know." Kitty said with a shrug, grinning.

"Wow. Could you at least pretend to be a little humble for once?" Devin asked, smiling wryly.

"No way. That would probably kill me." Kitty said, making a face. They all laughed at that.

"So your country is called America." Aragorn said. "It sounds like a beautiful place."

"It is." Devin said, smiling softly as she remembered home.

"I find it strange that I have never heard of it." He added, more to the point. The girls exchanged a look. Uh-oh. This is what they had been afraid of.

"Well, you certainly won't find it on any maps of Middle Earth…" Devin mumbled, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation.

"Because it's location is secret!" Kitty said abruptly, earning herself a strange look from both Aragorn and Devin.

"Really?" Pippin asked. "Why?"

"Uh, because it's so awesome." Kitty said. Devin had to resist the strong urge to face-palm. "Yeah, see, we don't want all these invaders coming in and taking our stuff."

"I suppose that makes sense…" Merry said, furrowing his brow slightly.

"Yes. It makes _perfect_ sense." Kitty insisted firmly.

"And the real reason is?" Aragorn asked Devin, leaning closer and keeping his voice low so the hobbits wouldn't hear.

"It's nothing sinister," Devin tried to reassure him, "but please believe me when I say: you'd never believe us if we actually told the truth."


	7. Chapter 7

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Flight to the Ford**

* * *

In the afternoon they went on down the woods. They were probably following the very track that Gandalf, Bilbo, and the dwarves had used many years before. After a few miles they came out on the top of a high bank above the Road. At this point the Road had left the Haarwell far behind the river down in its narrow valley, and now clung close to the feet of the hills, rolling and winding lastward among woods and heather-covered slopes towards the Ford and the Mountains. Not far down the bank Aragorn pointed out a stone in the grass. On it roughly cut and now much weathered could still be seen dwarf-runes and secret marks.

"There!" said Merry. "That must be the stone that marked the place where the trolls' gold was hidden. How much is left of Bilbo's share, I wonder, Frodo?"

Frodo looked at the stone, and wished that Bilbo had brought home no treasure more perilous, nor less easy to part with.

"None at all." He said. "Bilbo gave it all away. He told me he did not feel it was really his, as it came from robbers."

The Road lay quiet under the long shadows of early evening. There was no sign of any other travellers to be seen. As there was now no other possible course for them to take, they climbed down the bank, and turning left went off as fast as they could. Soon a shoulder of the hills cut off the light of the fast westering sun. a cold wind flowed down to meet them from the mountains ahead.  
They were beginning to look out for a place off the Road, where they could camp for the night, when they heard a sound that brought sudden fear back into their hearts: the noise of hoofs behind them. They looked back, but they could not see far because of the many windings and rollings of the Road. As quickly as they could they scrambled off the beaten way and up into the deep heather and bilberry brushwood on the slopes above, until they came to a small patch of thick-growing hazels. As they peered out from among the bushes, they could see the Road, faint and grey in the failing light, some thirty feet below them. The sound of hoofs drew nearer. They were going fast, with a light _clippety-clippety-clip._ Then faintly, as if it was blown away from them by the breeze, they seemed to catch a dim ringing, as of small bells tinkling.

"That does not sound like a Black Rider's horse!" said Frodo, listening intently. The other hobbits agreed hopefully that it did not, but they all remained full of suspicion.  
They had been in fear of pursuit for so long that any sound from behind seemed ominous and unfriendly. But Aragorn and Devin were now leaning forward, stooped to the ground and listening carefully, with a hand to their ears, and a look of joy on their faces.

"It's an elf." Devin said knowingly in a low voice. This had to be the part where they met Glorfindel.

The light faded, and the leaves on the bushes rustled softly. Clearer and nearer now the bells jingled, and _clippety-clippety-clip_ came the quick trotting feet. Suddenly into view below came a white horse, gleaming in the shadows, running swiftly. In the dusk its headstall flickered and flashed, as if it were studded with gems like living stars. The rider's cloak streamed behind her, and her hood was thrown back; her raven hair flowed shimmering in the wind of her speed. To Frodo it appeared that a white light was shining through the form and raiment of the rider, as if through a thin veil.  
Kitty noticed Devin's brow was furrowed slightly and there was a troubled look on her face. She didn't really remember too much of what was supposed to happen before Rivendell, but obviously some part of the story had changed again.

Aragorn sprang from hiding and dashed down towards the Road, leaping with a cry through the heather, but even before he had moved or called, the beautiful rider had reined her horse and halted, looking up towards the thicket where they stood. When she saw Aragorn, she dismounted and ran to meet him calling out: _Ai na vedui Dúnadan! Mae govannen!_ Her speech and clear ringing voice left no doubt in their hearts: the rider was of the Elven-folk. No others that dwelt in the wide world had voices so fair to hear. But there seemed to be a not of haste or fear in her call, and they saw that she was now speaking quickly and urgently to Aragorn.  
Soon Aragorn beckoned to them, and the girls and hobbits left the bushes and hurried down to the Road.

"_Mae govannen, Arwen Undómiel."_ Devin greeted the gorgeous she-elf courteously in heavily accented Sindarin. Aragorn raised his eyebrows at her while Arwen tilted her head slightly and glanced between them. Arwen began to ask her something in Sindarin, but Devin had to hold up a hand and stop her. "Sorry, but I'm afraid that was the full extent of my Elvish."

"You know of me?" Arwen asked.

"Your reputation precedes you." Devin replied calmly. It was easy to guess considering her good looks and the look in Aragorn's eyes when he beheld her.

"And who is this?" Kitty asked, feeling a bit left out.

"This is Lady Arwen, daughter of Elrond, lord of Rivendell." Devin explained for Kitty's and the hobbits' benefit.

"Oh. I see." Kitty said as she and the hobbits stared at the radiant she-elf appreciatively. "No wonder she's so ridiculously beautiful."

"Thank you, …?" Arwen said with a somewhat bemused smile.

"Devin and Kitty." Aragorn introduced the girls, gesturing to each in turn. "And this is Frodo."

"Hail, and well met at last." Arwen greeted the ring-bearer. "I was sent from Rivendell to look for you. We feared you were in danger upon the road."

"Then Gandalf has reached Rivendell?" Frodo cried joyfully.

"No. He had not when I departed; but that was nine days ago." Arwen answered.

'Nine days?' Kitty thought. Nine days out here, and she still looked this fabulous? _What was her secret?_

"My father received news that troubled him." Arwen went on to explain. "Some of my kindred, journeying in your land beyond the Baranduin, learned that things were amiss, and sent messages as swiftly as they could. They said that the Nine were abroad, and that you were astray bearing a great burden without guidance, for Gandalf had not returned. There are few even in Rivendell that can ride openly against the Nine; but such as there were, my father sent out north, west, and south. It was thought that you might turn far aside to avoid pursuit, and become lost in the wilderness." Devin furrowed her brow slightly. No offense to Arwen, but where was Glorfindel? Even if she had not read the books, she would have found it very strange that Elrond would rather send his own daughter out on such a dangerous mission instead of a certified elf-warrior. "It was my lot to take the Road, and I came to the Bridge of Mitheithel, and left a token there, nigh on seven days ago. Three of the servants of Sauron were upon the bridge, but they withdrew. I came also upon two others, but they turned away southward. Since then I have searched for your trail. Two days ago I found it, and followed it over the Bridge; and today I marked where you descended from the hills again. But come! There is no time for further news. Since you are here we must risk the peril of the Road and go. There are five behind us, and when they find your trail upon the Road they will ride after us like the wind. And they are not all. Where the other four are, I do not know. I fear that we may find the Ford is already held against us."

While Arwen was speaking the shades of the evening deepened. Frodo felt a great weariness come over him. Ever since the sun began to sink the mist before his eyes had darkened, and he felt that a shadow was coming between him and the faces of his friends. Now pain assailed him, and he felt cold. He swayed, clutching at Sam's arm.

"Mr. Frodo is sick and wounded." Sam said angrily. "He can't go on riding after nightfall. He needs rest."

Arwen caught Frodo as he sank to the ground, and taking him gently in her arms she looked in his face with grave anxiety.  
Briefly Aragorn told of the attack on their camp under Weathertop, and of the deadly knife. He drew out the hilt, which he had kept, and showed it to her. He did not want her to have to touch the wicked thing. Arwen shuddered slightly, but looked intently at it.

"There are evil things written on this hilt," she said; "though perhaps your eyes cannot see them. Keep it, Aragorn, till we reach the house of Elrond! But be wary, and handle it as little as you may! Alas! The wounds of this weapon are beyond my skill to heal. I will do what I can—but all the more do I urge you now to go on without rest."  
She searched the wound on Frodo's shoulder with her delicate fingers, and her fair face grew graver, as if what she learned disquieted her. But Frodo felt the chill lessen in his side and arm; a little warmth crept back down from his shoulder to his hand, and the pain grew easier. The dusk of evening seemed to grow lighter about him, as if a cloud had been withdrawn. He saw his friends' faces more clearly again, and a measure of new hope and strength returned.

"You shall ride my horse." Arwen said to him. "I will shorten the stirrups up to the saddle-skirts, and you must sit as tight as you can. But you need not fear: my horse will not let any rider fall that I command him to bear. His pace is light and smooth; and if danger presses too near, he will bear you away with a speed that even the black steeds of the enemy cannot rival."

"No, he will not!" Frodo protested. "I shall not ride him, if I am to be carried off to Rivendell or anywhere else, leaving my friends behind in danger."

"Frodo, Frodo, Frodo. Frodo." Kitty said smiling wryly as she shook her head. "That's really very sweet of you, but do you really think we'd be in any danger if we weren't with you? If you took off, they'd probably chase you and forget all about us. We're like chopped liver to them compared to you and what you carry."

To that Frodo had no answer, and he was persuaded to mount Arwen's white horse. The pony was laden instead with a great part of the others' burdens, so that they now marched lighter, and for a time made good speed; but the hobbits began to find it hard to keep up with the swift and tireless feet of the Elf. On she led them, into the mouth of darkness, and still on under the deep clouded night. There was neither star nor moon. Not until the grey of dawn did she allow them to halt. Pippin, Merry, Sam, and the two girls were by that time nearly asleep on their stumbling legs; and even Aragorn seemed to by the sag of his shoulders to be weary. Frodo sat upon the horse in a dark dream.  
They cast themselves down in the heather as few yards from the roadside, and fell asleep immediately. They seemed hardly to have closed their eyes when Arwen, who had set herself to watch while they slept, awoke them again. The sun had now climbed far into the morning, and the clouds and mists of the night were gone.

"Drink this!" Arwen told them, pouring for each in turn a little liquor from her silver-studded flask of leather. It was clear as spring water and had no taste, and it did not feel either cool or warm in the mouth; but strength and vigor seemed to flow into all their limbs as they drank it. Eaten after that draught the stale bread and dried fruit (which was now all they had left) seemed to satisfy the hunger of the hobbits and girls better than any good breakfast in the Shire or at a Waffle House had done.

"Wow! This stuff is even better than _Red Bull_!" Kitty exclaimed. Who knew Elves could be so good at making energy drinks!

"Especially since there are no weird side-effects, like heart palpitations." Devin added.

They had rested rather less than five hours when they took to the Road again. Arwen still urged them on, and only allowed two brief halts during the day's march. In this way they covered almost twenty miles before nightfall, and came to a point where the Road bent right and ran down towards the bottom of the valley, now making straight for the Bruinen. So far there had been no sign or sound of pursuit that the girls and hobbits could see or hear; but often Arwen would halt and listen for a moment, if they lagged behind, and a look of anxiety clouded her face. Once or twice she spoke to Aragorn in the elf-tongue.  
But however anxious their guides might be, it was plain the hobbits could go no further that night. They were stumbling along dizzy with weariness, and unable to think of anything but their feet and legs; and the girls were not much better off. Kitty and Devin were active and ate their Wheaties, but even they had their limits. Kitty couldn't help but wonder what Aragorn was made out of since he was supposed to be human, too, and yet he was still a whole head and shoulders above them stamina-wise. Meanwhile Frodo's pain had redoubled, and during the day things about him faded to shadows of ghostly grey. He almost welcomed the coming night, for then the world seemed less pale and empty.

The hobbits and the girls were still weary when they set out again early next morning. There were many miles yet to go between them and the Ford, and they hobbled forward at the best pace they could manage.

"Our peril will be greatest just ere we reach the river," Arwen said; "for my heart warns me that the pursuit is now swift behind us, and other danger may be waiting by the Ford."

The road was still running steadily downhill, and there was now in places much grass at either side, in which the hobbits walked when they could to ease their tired feet. In the late afternoon they came to a place where the Road went suddenly under the dark shadow of tall pines and then plunged into a deep cutting with steep moist walls of red stone. Echoes ran along as they hurried forward; and there seemed to be the sound of many footsteps following their own. Normally this was the kind of natural phenomena the girls would have been delighted to discover and would have had to stop for a few moments to play around and enjoy the effect, but with to the knowledge that they were being pursued by deadly wraiths, they found the echoes they normally would have laughed at somewhat unnerving. All at once, as if through a gate of light, the Road ran out again from the end of the tunnel into the open. There at the bottom of a sharp incline they saw before them a long flat mile, and beyond that the Ford of Rivendell. On the further side was a steep brown bank, threaded by a winding path; and behind that the tall mountains climbed, shoulder above shoulder, and peak beyond peak, into the fading sky.

"What view." Kitty said with a whistle of appreciation.

"Yeah." Devin said softly. It was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen, and it was made all the sweeter by the knowledge that they were so close to safety, a hot meal, and a real bed after everything they had been through to get there. There was still an echo as of following feet in the cutting behind them; a rushing noise as if a wind were rising and pouring through the branches of the pines. One moment Arwen turned and listened, then she sprang forward with a loud cry.

"Fly!" She called. "Fly! The enemy is upon us!"

Devin's and Kitty's eyes widened in realization as the white horse leaped forward; they didn't need to be told twice. The two girls sprang after the elf-horse, and the hobbits followed after them. They ran down the slope while Aragorn and Arwen followed as rear-guard. They were only half way across the flat, when suddenly there was a noise of horses galloping. Out of the gate in the trees that they had just left rode a Black Rider. He reined his horse in, and halted, swaying in his saddle. Another followed him, and then another; then again two more.

"Ride forward! Ride!" Arwen cried to Frodo.

He did not obey at once, for a strange reluctance seized him. Checking the horse to a walk, he turned and looked back. The Riders seemed to sit upon their great steeds like threatening statues upon a hill, dark and solid, while all the woods and land about them receded as if into a mist. Devin skidded to a halt and turned to look back when she realized what was happening.

"Don't listen to them, Frodo!" She cried, snapping the dazed hobbit out of his trance. Suddenly he knew in his heart that they were silently commanding him to wait. Then at once fear and hatred awoke in Frodo. His hand left the bridle and gripped the hilt of his sword, and with a red flash he drew it.

"Frodo!" Devin shouted while Kitty reached back and grabbed her hand, pulling her forward with her.

"Ride on! Ride on!" Arwen cried, and then loud and clear she called to the horse in the elf-tongue: _noro lim, noro lim, Asfaloth!_

At once the white horse sprang away and sped like the wind along the last lap of the Road. At the same moment the black horses leaped down the hill in pursuit, and from the Riders came a terrible cry, such as Frodo had heard filling the woods with horror in the Eastfarthing far away. It was answered; and to the dismay of Frodo and his friends out from the trees and rocks away on the left four other Riders came flying. Two rode towards Frodo: two galloped madly towards the Ford to cut off his escape. They seemed to him to run like the wind and to grow swiftly larger and darker, as their courses converged with his.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried as the white horse bore Frodo and the ring ahead swiftly out of sight, and the five Black Riders overtook he rest of their group, running straight through without pausing for so much as a second look at any of them. Their only concern now was capturing Frodo and the ring.

"Crap!" Kitty cursed.

"We'll never catch them on foot!" Merry cried in dismay.

"Calm yourselves!" Aragorn urged the panicking hobbits. "There is still hope that he may be able to outrun the Riders."

"If Frodo can make it across the river then the power of my people will protect him." Arwen said calmly.

"If we by some miracle we do catch up to them, we'll need a little fire." Devin said, swinging her bag around so she could pull out the can of hairspray again. "Get some branches!" She told the hobbits. "The longer the better."

"What is that?" Arwen asked.

"A weapon." Aragorn said as he left to help the hobbits fetch the wood.

"Actually, it's just hairspray." Devin said as she pulled the lighter from her pocket and flipped it open. "It's normally used as a beauty product, but it's highly flammable, so when you spray it near an open flame..."

"You get an instant blowtorch!" Kitty finished, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "And you said it would be a waste of space when I said I wanted to keep it." Devin rolled her eyes.

"I have never seen such an object before." She said as Aragorn and the hobbits returned.

"They have many strange objects in their possession." He said. "I shall explain in more detail, but now is not the time."

"I don't know how exactly much hairspray is left." Devin began to explain as she took a stick from Pippin and gestured for them to all hold their sticks angled down towards the ground. She started spraying the ends with hairspray. "But putting some on the end of these sticks should make a quick substitute for pitch. We'll get more mileage out of torches than we would using what little is still in the can as a blow torch." She light the lighter and set the torches aflame.

Frodo looked back for a moment over his shoulder. He could no longer see his friends. The Riders behind were falling back: even their great steeds were no match in speed for the white elf-horse of Arwen. He looked forward again and hope faded. There seemed no chance of reaching the Ford before he was cut off by the others that had lain in ambush. He could see them clearly now: they appeared to have cast aside their hoods and black cloaks, and they were robed in white and grey. Swords were naked in their pale hands; helms were on their heads. Their cold eyes glittered, and they called to him with fell voices.  
Fear now filled all Frodo's mind. He thought no longer of his sword. No cry came from him. He shut his eyes and clung to the horse's mane. The wind whistled in his ears, and the bells upon the harness rang wild and shrill. A breath of deadly cold pierced him like a spear, as with a last spurt, like a flash of white fire, the elf-horse speeding as if on wings, passed right before the face of the foremost Rider.  
Frodo heard the splash of water. It foamed about his feet. He felt the quick heave and surge as the horse left the river and struggled up the stony path. He was climbing the steep bank. He was across the Ford.  
But the pursuers were close behind. At the top of the bank the horse halted and turned about neighing fiercely. There were Nine Riders at the water's edge below, and Frodo's spirit quailed before the threat of their uplifted faces. He knew of nothing that would prevent them from crossing as easily as he had done; and he felt that it was useless to try to escape over the long uncertain path from the Ford to the edge of Rivendell, if once the Riders crossed. In any case he felt that he was commanded urgently to halt. Hatred again stirred in him, but he had no longer the strength to refuse.  
Suddenly the foremost rider spurred his horse forward. It checked at the water and reared up. With a great effort Frodo sat upright and brandished his sword.

"Go back!" he cried. "Go back to the Land of Mordor, and follow me no more!" His voice sounded thin and shrill in his own ears. The Riders halted, but Frodo had not the power of Bombadil. His enemies laughed at him with a harsh and chilling laughter.

"Come back! Come back!" they called. "To Mordor we will take you!"

"Go back!" he whispered.

"The Ring! The Ring!" they cried with deadly voices; and immediately their leader urged his horse forward into the water, followed closely by two others.

"By Elbereth and Lúthien the fair," said Frodo with a last effort, lifting up his sword, "you shall have neither the Ring nor me!"

Then the leader, who was now half across the Ford, stood up menacing in his stirrups, and raised up his hand. Frodo was stricken dumb. He felt his tongue cleave to his mouth, and his heart laboring. His sword broke and fell out of his shaking hand. The elf-horse reared and snorted. The foremost of the black horses had almost set foot upon the shore.  
At that moment came a roar and a rushing: a noise of loud waters rolling many stones. Dimly Frodo saw the river below him rise, and down along its course there came a plumed cavalry of waves. White flames seemed to Frodo to flicker on the crests and he half fancied he saw amid the water white riders upon white horses with frothing manes. The three Riders that were still in the midst of the Ford were overwhelmed: they disappeared, buried suddenly under angry foam. Those that were behind drew back in dismay.  
With his last failing senses Frodo heard cries, and it seemed to him that he saw, beyond the Riders that hesitated on the shore, a shining figure of white light; and behind it ran two tall and several small shadowy forms waving flames, that flared red in the grey mist that was falling over the world.  
The black horses were filled with madness, and leaping forward in terror they bore their riders into the rushing flood. Their piercing cries were drowned in the roaring of the river as it carried them away. Then Frodo felt himself falling, and the roaring and confusion seemed to rise and engulf him together with his enemies. He heard and saw no more.

"No! Frodo!" The others shouted when they saw him slip from the elf-horse's saddle and fall onto the bank beyond the rushing waters.

"No, Sam!" Aragorn said sternly, stopping the stout hobbit before he could try running across the high waters. The current was still to swift. He would and the other hobbits would be swept away. "We must wait for the waters to settle."

"Oh, no." Arwen breathed softly as she stared across the river at Frodo's prone form. "He… Frodo is no longer breathing!"

"What_!_?" Devin and Kitty shouted in alarm, whipping their heads around to glance at her. No, it couldn't be. That wasn't supposed to happen…

"Are you sure?" Aragorn asked gravely. Arwen nodded.

"I can no longer see the rise and fall of his chest." She replied sadly.

"No." Devin said, staring across the river at Frodo's unconscious body while the hobbits began to weep. "No. It's not supposed to end this way—_it can't_! Kitty!" She shouted, turning to her friend. Kitty glanced between her friend and the river and nodded in understanding.

"Aragorn, come here and give me hand." Kitty said, moving closer to the bank. "We're going to throw Devin as far across the river as we can."

"She will never make it." Arwen said with concern. "The current is still too strong."

"Do you want to save Frodo or not?" Devin asked while Kitty instructed Aragorn on how to stand and hold his hands for the stunt they were about to pull. "I've been a lifeguard for the last three summers in a row. I can do it." she said determinedly, taking a deep breath, before getting into position. The hobbits held their breath and watched in awe as, on the count of three, Aragorn and Kitty launched Devin into the air up and over the river. She made it about three thirds of the way across before plunging into the cold water. They were all relieved when her head broke the surface again and she gasped for breath, swimming for the opposite shore at a diagonal rather than wasting energy by trying to swim straight across against the current. Panting and breathing heavily, Devin pulled herself up onto the steep riverbank and paused for a moment to catch her breath once she was out of the water. The moment she was good to go, she picked herself up and scrambled over to the unconscious Frodo; tilted his head back, pinched his nose, and gave him two rescue-breaths before stopping to check his pulse.

"Okay." She said, relieved to feel one. It was weak, but it was still there. His heart was pumping. She just needed to get him to breath again. "Come on, Frodo!" She whispered, taking deep breath before continuing her ministrations. She gave him another two rescue breaths and held her ear close to his open mouth, waiting to see if she could hear or feel him breathing. Nothing. She checked his pulse. Still weak. She gave him two more rescue breaths, and paused to check his breathing. "Oh, thank God!" She exclaimed with tired relief as she sat back on her heels. He was finally breathing on his own again. She took a moment to collect herself before standing up and turning back to face the others.

"He's okay!" She shouted, feeling a bit light headed. "I got him breathing again. His pulse is weak, and his breathing's shallow; but he'll live!" Now they just needed to get him to Elrond.


	8. Chapter 8

I own nothing but my OC.

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**Chapter 8: Rivendell**

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While Devin kept guard over the now breathing but still unconscious Frodo the others began to carefully cross the receding river to join them. First came Arwen, who was anxious to check him for herself.

"Although I do not know how you were able to accomplish such a thing, you have managed to save Frodo's life for the moment." She said while Aragorn helped Kitty and the hobbits across. "But he is fading. He is not going to last. We must get him to my father." Arwen looked up from the hobbit to Devin with the same clinical stare she had just been using while diagnosing Frodo. "What about you? How are you feeling? I do not know what you did, but touching your lips to his so soon after he was hit by the Black Breath was very dangerous. Some of it may have transferred unto you." Devin's eyes widened slightly in surprise. She hadn't even thought of that. Once she heard that Frodo needed CPR, her training had kicked in, and she hadn't thought of anything but saving the poor hobbit.

"Well, I feel a bit woozy—dizzy, I mean—and cold…" Devin admitted slowly. "But I'm pretty sure that has more to do with the fact I just swam across a cold river right before performing CPR. Honestly, I feel fine aside from needing a change of dry clothes."

"Then you have been very fortunate." Arwen said, though she still looked concerned and slightly puzzled. How could a human have performed such a miracle, especially without the aid of magic? She had sensed none coming from the girl. "

"Mr. Frodo! How is he? What happened?" Sam asked urgently as he rushed over to them, dropping to his knees beside his friend and master.

"Lady Devin has managed to help him breathe again, but his life remains endangered by his wound." Arwen said as Merry, Pippin, Kitty, and Aragorn came over to join them as well.

"What if someone rode ahead with him?" Kitty asked.

"I will take him to my father on Asfaloth." Arwen said, preparing to readjust the stirrups.

"The Riders may have been swept away for now, but we do not know how soon they may be able to regroup." Aragorn said. "Stay with the others. I will take him, and I will send horses for you upon reaching Rivendell."

"I am the faster rider." Arwen said. "I will take him."

"Just let her take him, Aragorn." Kitty said. " 'Cause she's obviously not going to let you win this one."

"The Riders should be scattered and formless for weeks at the least." Devin added. "The more time we waste arguing, the less time Lord Elrond will have to heal Frodo before he becomes a wraith."

Aragorn still seemed reluctant, but he nodded in agreement and allowed Arwen to mount her white elf-horse and speed Frodo away to her father.

"So… guess this means more walking for us, huh?" Kitty asked as they watched them ride off and disappear off into the distance with incredible speed.

"Don't worry." Devin told the anxious hobbits. "He'll be all right. You'll see."

Devin shivered as she pulled the blanket she had wrapped around herself tighter. Since all she had was the clothes on her back, Devin really had no choice but to trudge along in her wet clothes. The blanket had helped keep her warm for a while, but now that it was starting to become damp, too, after absorbing some of the water from her clothing. She really hoped she wasn't going to end up catching a cold. She sneezed.

"Dude. You okay?" Kitty asked, concerned.

"Yeah. I'll live." Devin replied glumly, sniffling. "Cross your fingers that I don't get hypothermia out here."

"Hypothermia?" Pippin asked.

"It's a condition in which the body's core temperature drops below that required for normal metabolism and body functions." Devin said.

"I see." He said.

"No you don't." Merry said.

"It's basically the opposite of hyperthermia—you know, heat exhaustion or heat stroke?" Kitty said.

"Oh." Pippin said. That made a bit more sense.

"I doubt I'll get more than a mild case, though." Devin said. "It's not winter yet. I'm actually more concerned I might get trench foot since my shoes and socks are soaking wet."

"Ugh. Can't you get gangrene from that?" Kitty asked, remembering the documentary their high school history teacher had made them watch on WWI.

"Yeah, that's why as soon as we stop for a break, I'm drying off my feet, wrapping them in a warm blanket, and wiggling my toes like crazy to make sure they're getting proper blood circulation before it starts to set in." Devin said. Doing this much walking in wet shoes would probably increase her chances of getting the condition. Aragorn stopped abruptly and glanced back at them.

"What will happen if you are stricken with this 'gangrene'?" He asked. Apparently he had been listening to them after all.

"Basically her feet will start to rot and end up needing to be amputated." Kitty said bluntly earning some horrified looks from the hobbits.

"Way to sugar-coat it, Kitty." Devin deadpanned. "That's just a worse-case scenario. I'm sure I'll be fine." But Aragorn wasn't taking any chances. He cut strips from one of the blankets, and wrapped her feet in them once they had been stripped of their wet socks and shoes; and Devin soon found herself sitting atop the pony, which was being led by Sam, while the others shouldered what was left of the supplies.

"You should say something sooner next time." Aragorn scolded them as he took the lead again.

"Um, sorry?" Devin said, blinking. "I guess we're just too used to the advanced medicine of our… land. Amputations aren't that common where we're from. They can usually fix severe infections before it comes to that."

"Your medicine must rival the Elves'." Sam said, amazed. "Can everyone use magic in your world like the kind you used to save Mr. Frodo?"

"Well, like we keep saying, we can't use magic, Sam." Devin replied calmly. "In fact, no one can. We're just normal humans. All I did was blow air into Frodo's lungs to remind them how they were supposed to work. His body did the rest. Think of the body as a machine, like a clock, only more complex. Once you know how the different parts work, it can be easy to fix."

"But you said you were a 'life guard'." He said. "That don't sound like an ordinary doctor to me."

"Because it isn't." She said. "Lifeguards aren't as schooled in healing illnesses as doctors. Anyone can do it. We're just called that because it's our job to sit on guard and watch over people while they're swimming in pools or at the beach. We get training to keep people safe and do our best to prevent them from getting hurt or drowning while we're on duty. While it's true I can help someone who's stopped breathing, and even restart their heart if necessary, but it's not perfect. How well it works depends on the strength of the person you're trying to help and what kind of shape they're in." Devin bowed her head sadly, remembering the heart attack victim she hadn't been able to save and the look on his kid's face. "No matter how much you want to, you can't save everyone."

"But you saved Mr. Frodo." Sam reminded her.

"Yeah…" She said softly with a small smile. "Yeah, I guess I did." Who would have thought?

On their second day of walking the path to Rivendell they were met by a group of elves on horseback that had been sent to intercept and welcome them. And, to the hobbits' and the girls' immense delight, the Elves had also been thoughtful enough to bring more food with them; and a change of dry clothes for Devin. This, along with some good news about Frodo's condition (Elrond was still working on him, but they had managed to get the injured hobbit there just in time.) served to lighten their spirits considerably; and once they had eaten their fill and regained some of their energy and strength, they joined the Elves on a swift ride to Rivendell that surely would have taken the girls and the hobbits at least five or six days on foot but only took the elf-horses a day and a half to cover.

To the surprise and joy of the hobbits, they were greeted by a familiar face upon entering Rivendell.

"Gandalf!" Merry and Pippin cried with delight upon seeing the wizened old wizard in grey waiting for them. Sam smiled, relieved to see that he was all right.

"I see you have made it safely to Rivendell, my friend." Aragorn said as he dismounted his elven steed. He walked over and clapped hands with his old friend. "You are a sight for sore eyes."

"And you are most welcome." Gandalf told him before glancing at the rest of his companions. His eyes stopped on Kitty and Devin. "I see there are some new faces mixed in with the familiar. I have many questions, but I suppose they can wait, for now. Come, you have been through much; and no doubt wish to rest before being pestered by a curious old man." He said, laying a hand on Aragorn's shoulder.

"Mr. Gandalf, sir." Sam said earnestly, fidgeting nervously, as he stepped forward after being helped down from the horse by the elf that had born him. "What about Mr. Frodo? Is he all right now?"

"Master Elrond is still tending to Frodo at the moment." Gandalf said. His expression clouded slightly as he was reminded of the grave danger Frodo had been in upon his arrival at Rivendell. "But he is expected to pull through. You need not worry, Samwise Gamgee. Your master is in good hands." Sam and the other hobbits visibly relaxed upon hearing this, obviously relieved now that they knew both Frodo and Gandalf would be all right. Pippin yawned as a sudden feeling of sleepiness came over him. He could do with a nice long nap after everything he had been through. They all could. Kitty, Devin, and the hobbits let the elves lead them away to show them to their rooms so they could have a warm bath and rest while Aragorn remained behind to have a word with Gandalf.

"I must speak to Lord Elrond once he has finished tending to Frodo." Aragorn said.

"Is it about those two girls who came with you?" Gandalf asked, furrowing his brow. "Arwen spoke briefly of what she knew of them. She said the smaller one breathed life back into Frodo after he had stopped breathing?"

"Yes." Aragorn said. "She claims there was no magic involved, and that anyone could do it; but I have never seen the like of it in all my travels. I do not sense any evil or malice in them, and they have helped me protect the ring-bearer and his companions without once trying to take the Ring. I do not believe them to be enemy spies, but much about them remains hidden. They carry with them many strange items with mysterious powers, and they speak of a land that is not on any map in Middle Earth. They claim to hail from a place called 'America'."

"America?" Gandalf asked. "Indeed, that name is strange to me. It is of a foreign tongue that I have never encountered before. But I trust your judgment. If you say they are not the enemy then I will believe you, but the uncertainty of their origins is troubling during such turbulent times. In light of what the one called Devin has done for Frodo we shall let them have a chance to rest before questioning them tomorrow. In the meantime I would appreciate it if you could tell me all that you have come to know of them, however little it may be."

In the warmth and safety of her comfortable bed, for a few brief moments, Devin thought the hard and perilous journey she and Kitty had endured after falling into Middle Earth had been nothing more than a dream; but as she rolled over and stared up at the intricately carved ceiling, it began to dawn on her just how wrong that assumption was. With wide eyes Devin shot up in bed and glanced around her room, taking in the elvish architecture and furniture surrounding her. Unless she had been kidnapped by some LARPers with way too much time on their hands, she was still in Middle Earth. It had all been real. Her current surroundings and sore muscles were proof of that. With a groan Devin pushed herself up and out of the bed. Now that she was up she might as well get dressed, find Kitty, and figure out how they were going to ask Gandalf and Elrond for help getting back to their world without sounding like a couple of complete fruit-loops. She walked over to the wardrobe, which had been equipped with elvish-style clothing in her petite size, and selected a violet dress and matching slippers to change into.  
A soft knock came at the door, and a female elf glided into the room only a few minutes after she had finished getting dressed and brushing her hair with the silver brush they had left out for her. She couldn't find her bag anywhere. She hoped it was with Kitty.

"Lord Elrond requests your presence." The she-elf said.

"Um, okay…" Devin replied a little less eloquently, and followed the elf out, feeling a bit awkward next to the inhumanly graceful being that was now guiding her through the halls. Devin was pretty sure she would need a map and plenty of 'your are here' signs to find her way around this elegant maze on her own.  
She was led into a room that appeared to be some kind of grand study. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with books and scrolls. Her dad would have loved it. Already seated at a large beautiful oak table in the middle of the room was Kitty. Devin's guide excused herself and asked her to wait there with her friend.

"Yo." Kitty said as Devin crossed the room to take a seat next to her. "I see you got the special summons, too?"

"Yeah." Devin said, glancing around. "I guess they want to question us."

"I have to say this is the nicest interrogation room I've ever seen." Kitty commented also looking around. "What are they going to do, read to us if we resist? Is it going to be all 'Elrond in the library with a candlestick' if we don't talk?"

"Well, if we were ever going to talk now would be the time." Devin said. "And not just because of what they might so to us if we don't. If we want them to help us get back to our world, eventually we're going to have to tell them the truth about our origins… Again, just don't mention anything about them being 'fictional characters', all right? I really don't think they'd take that too well."

"What if they ask how the story ends?" Kitty asked. Before Devin could answer the doors to the study opened again and Elrond and Gandalf entered the room. "OMG!" Kitty whispered excitedly, caught off-guard by the elf lord's appearance. "Is it just me or does her look like that Agent Smith guy from _The Matrix_?"

"Um, yeah… I'm gonna go with spatial genetic multiplicity for this one." Devin whispered. Kitty couldn't help but grin. She loved it when _Doctor Who_ could be applied to explain real life situations. Elrond and Gandalf stopped before them with raised eyebrows.

"What is this 'spatial genetic multiplicity' of which you speak?" Elrond asked.

"Wow. Try saying that five times fast." Kitty commented.

"It means an echo and repetition of physical traits across a, uh... time rift." Devin explained slowly. She should have known he'd hear them with his sharp elf-ears. "You look identical to someone from our world, but he's human."

"Really?" Elrond asked, arching his brow, as he exchanged a look with Gandalf. "Your _'world'_? Not your 'land'?"

"We were kind of trying to keep a low profile until we got here." Kitty said with a shrug.

"We thought telling people we were from another land would sound less crazy than the truth, which is that we're actually from another world entirely." Devin explained. "Us ending up here was complete accident. To be honest, we aren't even sure how or why it happened. But we were hoping the two of you might be able to help us get back home."

"How did it happen, from your perspective?" Gandalf asked curiously.

"One minute we were walking through a forest in our world then we fell into a river, and when we crawled back out of it we were here. That's how we met Aragorn. He was camping nearby." Kitty said.

"Did you try jumping back into the river?" He asked. The girls blinked and stared at him for a moment before looking at each other.

"Why didn't you think of that?" Kitty asked Devin.

"Why is it my job to think of everything?" Devin asked.

"Because you're the responsible one, duh." Kitty retorted. Devin rolled her eyes, feeling slightly chagrined, while Elrond and Gandalf appeared to be slightly amused and bemused by their little exchange, and filed that last statement away for future reference.

"Anyway, we were wondering if this might've had anything to do with it." Devin said, removing the green beryl crystal necklace from around her neck. She held it out for the elf-lord and wizard to see for themselves. "We heard green beryl was an elf-stone in this world, so we were thinking maybe it had special powers?"

"This stone alone would never be enough to accomplish such a feat." Elrond said as he examined it. "Did you acquire it from the Elves of your world?"

"We don't have elves in our world." Devin replied. "Or dwarves, or any other kind of magical race. We come from a world of Men. A world without magic of any kind. That's why we're so puzzled as to how we could've ended up in a world full of real magic." Elrond and Gandalf exchanged a glance, and the wizard set the girls' backpack down on the table before them.

"If what you say is true then it would help to explain the strange contents of this bag." The wizard said. After examining the foreign items in it, such as the girls' cell phones, lighter, and ipods, they had discovered that they not only possessed zero magical energy or qualities, but much of the materials they had been made of were unlike any known substance in their world; and the inner mechanisms of the small machines were beyond the skill of Men, and possibly even of the skill of dwarves, to create. "I hope you do not mind, but we took the liberty of examining some of your more outlandish belongings. We cannot afford to be too careful. We are experiencing some very troubled times in out world."

"Yeah, we know." Kitty said carelessly. "It's cool. Just do what you gotta. We'd be freaked too if some evil overlord was trying to conquer and enslave us all."

"I believe that statement brings us to another point we wish to discuss." Elrond said. "If you are not from this world then how is that you have come to know so much about it? Are you seers who possess the gift of foresight?" Kitty looked at Devin. She wasn't touching this one. Devin sighed and tried to do her best to explain without imploding their minds or world.

"Well, we're not so much 'seers' as we are… 'readers'." She replied carefully. "In our world there is a series of special books that contain extensive knowledge of this world and all its major happenings: things that have happened, and things that have not yet come to pass, from your perspective. We have read these books. My father has always loved the legends and tales of Middle Earth, and he passed that love on to me." She said, smiling softly at the memory of her late father.

"Yeah. She's a second generation Tolkien fan—a genuine pedigree in nerdiness and geekery." Kitty added, earning herself an elbow in the side from her friend.

"Which is how you knew of Aragorn's true identity and of Frodo and the Ring?" Gandalf asked.

"We know more than that, _Olórin_." Devin said meaningfully, earning surprised looks from both the wizard and Elrond.

"It would seem so." Gandalf replied calmly with a gleam in his wise eyes. Only a _very select _few in Middle Earth knew his true name outside of his fellow Istari.

"But we don't know everything." She added quickly. "For instance, we have no idea what would happen if we were to tell you what we know about the events surrounding the current war of the Ring. It's possible nothing may come of it, but I believe it is more likely that by doing so, despite our good intentions, something might change; and however seemingly insignificant, it might unintentionally have a negative effect on the outcome of this part of your history. We don't want to be responsible for that, so we ask that you allow us to keep as much of what we know about future events to ourselves as possible, unless _absolutely _necessary. We _want_ you to win."

"Cross-dimensional time travel is a lot more complicated than it might seem." Kitty added. "Especially since you guys already seem to be slightly off-kilter." Devin shot her friend a sharp look for bringing it up.

"Indeed?" Elrond asked exchanging another look with Gandalf.

"Actually, we've already noticed some discrepancies between what we thought was supposed to happen and what has actually come to pass." Devin said hesitantly. "For one thing, we heard from Aragorn that the shards of Narsil have been left in your care, and he doesn't seem to have any intention of having the sword reforged. But from what we read, he should have kept the heirloom in his possession, and he should have been on his way here to have it reforged when he encountered the hobbits. Also, you did not send Arwen out to find them after receiving news that the hobbits were traveling without Gandalf. It was a male elf named Glorfindel who found them. And Frodo did not stop breathing. His wound was severe, and he lost consciousness, but he was brought to you without needing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. And of course Kitty and I were never here." She explained, pausing to take a breath. "But you seem to be back on track now. Frodo should be waking up tomorrow morning at about ten o'clock."

"Oh really?" Gandalf asked. "Ten o'clock, you say?" That was helpfully specific.

"And once all the other guests have finished arriving, you'll be able to talk about how to get rid of the Ring." Kitty added.

"Guests?" Elrond asked.

"Yep. Peeps from Gondor, dwarves, and some elves from Mirkwood. They've all come to talk to you about stuff relating to Sauron and the Ring, whether they know it or not." Kitty replied.

"Kitty, what did we just say about revealing too much about the future?" Devin asked, resisting the urge to face palm.

"Oh. Oops, my bad." Kitty said with a sheepish grin. "I guess they get a freebie."

"Anyway, given what we know, I think it would be best for everyone if the two of us just went back to our own world before we have a chance to screw up yours because I don't think we'd handle being tortured too well; and if the Enemy gets his hands on one of us, he'll know everything we do. Fortunately he doesn't know about us yet, so he won't be looking for us." Devin said. "We understand you have your hands full dealing with the Ring situation here, but when you have time…"

"You would like for us to find a way to send you back home." Gandalf finished for her.

"Yes, if it's not too much trouble." Devin said. The wizard and Elrond took a moment to consider everything they had just heard. These two girls were indeed strange, and their story seemed rather far-fetched; but it would explain the mysterious items they carried and their odd mannerisms. As Aragorn had said, there was no evil in them, and they appeared to be genuine.

"Very well." Elrond said at length. "Once council has been held and the fate of the Ring decided, we shall do what we can to help you. In the meantime the two of you are welcome to stay here." The two girls relaxed and let out a sigh of relief. Thank God for that.

"Awesome." Kitty said. "Now, anyone else in the mood for second breakfast?" Gandalf chuckled and shook his head. No wonder they had been able to get along so splendidly with the hobbits.


	9. Chapter 9

I own nothing but my OC.

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**Chapter 9: Many Meetings**

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Frodo woke and found himself lying in bed. At first he thought that he had slept late, after a long unpleasant dream that still hovered on the edge of memory. Or perhaps he had been ill? But the ceiling looked strange; it was flat, and it had dark beams richly carved. He lay a little while longer looking at patches of sunlight on the wall, and listening to the sound of a waterfall.

"Where am I, and what is the time?" he said aloud to the ceiling.

"In the house of Elrond, and it is ten o'clock in the morning." Said a familiar voice. "It is October the twenty-fourth, if you want to know."

"Gandalf!" Frodo cried, sitting up. There was the old wizard, sitting in a chair by the open window. Gandalf smiled slightly to himself, relieved to see the dear hobbit looking so animated. Those girls had been right. He hadn't had to wait long for Frodo to wake after relieving Sam.

"Yes," he said, "I am here. And you are lucky to be here, too, after all the absurd things you have done since you left home." The wizard had already heard quite enough about the misadventures that took place during their venture from the rest of his traveling companions.

Frodo lay down again. He felt too comfortable and peaceful to argue, and in any case he did not think he would get the better of an argument. He was fully awake now, and the memory of his journey was returning: the disastrous 'short cut' through the Old Forest; the 'accident' at _The Prancing Pony_; and his madness in putting on the Ring in the dell under Weathertop. While he was thinking of all these things and trying in vain to bring memory down to his arrival in Rivendell, there was a long silence, broken only by the soft puffs of Gandalf's pipe, as he blew white smoke-rings out of the window.

"Where's Sam?" Frodo asked at length. "And are the others all right?"

"Yes, they are all safe and sound." Gandalf answered. "Sam was here until I sent him off to get some rest, about half an hour ago."

"What happened at the Ford?" said Frodo. "It all seemed so dim, somehow; and it still does."

"Yes it would. You were beginning to fade." Answered Gandalf. "The wound was overcoming you at last. A few more hours and you would have been beyond our aid. But you have some strength in you, my dear hobbit! As you showed in the Barrow. That was touch and go: perhaps the most dangerous moment of all. I wish you could have held out at Weathertop."

"You seem to know a great deal already." Frodo said. "I have not spoken to the others about the Barrow. At first it was too horrible, and afterwards there were other things to think about. How do you know about it?"

"You have talked long in your sleep, Frodo," Gandalf said, "and it has not been hard for me to read your mind and memory. Do not worry! Though I said 'absurd' just now, I did not mean it. I think well of you and of the others. It is no small feat to have come so far, and through such dangers, still bearing the Ring."

"We should never have done it without Strider. And Devin and Kitty were of some help to us as well." Frodo said. "But we needed you. I did not know what to do without you."

"I was delayed," Gandalf said, "and that nearly proved our ruin. And yet I am not sure: it may have been better so."

"I wish you would tell me what happened!"

"All in good time! You are not supposed to talk or worry about anything today, by Elrond's orders."

"But talking would stop me thinking and wondering, which are quite as tiring." Said Frodo. "I am wide awake now, and I remember so many things that want explaining. Why were you delayed? You ought to tell me that at least."

"You will hear all you wish to know." Gandalf said. "We shall have a Council, as soon as you are well enough. At the moment I will only say that I was held captive."

"You?" cried Frodo.

"Yes, I, Gandalf the Grey," said the wizard solemnly. "There are many powers in the world, for good or for evil. Some are greater than I am. Against some I have not yet been measured. But my time is coming. The Morgul-lord and his Black Riders have come forth. War is preparing!"

"Then you knew of the Riders already—before I met them?"

"Yes, I knew of them. And I spoke of them once to you; for the Black Riders are the Ringwraiths, the Nine Servants of the Lord of the Rings. But I did not know that they had arisen again or I should have fled with you at once. I heard news of them only after I left you in June; but that story must wait. For the moment we have been saved from disaster by Aragorn and those girls. Devin saved you when you stopped breathing at the Ford."

"Yes," said Frodo, "it was Strider, Devin, and Kitty that saved us. Yet I was afraid of them at first. Sam never quite trusted them, I think, not at any rate until we met Lady Arwen." Gandalf smiled.

"I have heard all about Sam." He said. "He has no more doubts now."

"I am glad." Frodo said. "For I have become very fond of them. Well, _fond_ is not the right word. I mean they are dear to me; though they are strange, and grim at times. In fact, they remind me often of you. I didn't know that any of the Big People were like that; though Devin is rather small for one. I thought, well, that they were just big, and rather stupid: kind and stupid like Butterbur; or stupid and wicked like Bill Ferny. But then we don't know much about Men in the Shire, except perhaps Breelanders."

"You don't know much even about them, if you think old Barliman is stupid." Gandalf said. "He is wise enough on his own ground. He thinks less than he talks, and slower; yet he can see through a brick wall in time (as they say in Bree). But there are few left in Middle Earth like Aragorn son of Arathorn. The race of Kings from over the Sea is nearly at an end. It may be that this War of the Ring will be their last adventure."

"Do you really mean that Strider is one of the people of the old Kings?" said Frodo in wonder. "I thought they had all vanished long ago. I though he was only a Ranger."

"Only a Ranger!" cried Gandalf. "My dear Frodo, that is just what Rangers are: the last remnant in the North of the great people, the Men of the West. They have helped me before; and I shall need their help in the days to come; for we have reached Rivendell, but the Ring is not yet at rest."

"I suppose not." Frodo said. "But so far my only thought has been to get here; and I hope I shan't have to go any further. It is very pleasant just to rest. I have had a month of exile and adventure, and I find that has been as much as I want."

"Frodo!" Sam cried with excitement when he entered the room and saw him awake. "Mr. Frodo!" He ran over to his bedside. Gandalf raised an eyebrow. It would seem his advice to get some sleep had been ignored.

"Sam." Frodo said, pleasantly surprised.

"Bless you, you're awake!" Sam said.

"I thought you were supposed to be resting?" Frodo said.

"I couldn't sleep." Sam said. "We were that worried about you. Weren't we, Mr. Gandalf?"

"By the skills of Lord Elrond, you're beginning to mend." Gandalf answered, glancing up as the elf-lord entered the room to check on his patient. The face of Elrond was ageless, neither old nor young, though in it was written the memory of many things both glad and sorrowful. His hair was dark as the shadows twilight, and upon his brow was set a circlet of silver; his eyes were grey as a clear evening, and in them was a light like the light of stars. Venerable he seemed as a king crowned with many winters, and yet hale as a tried warrior in the fullness of his strength. He was the Lord of Rivendell and mighty among both Elves and Men.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins." Elrond said graciously.

Meanwhile, Kitty and Devin were chilling in one of the elven gazebos, watching the waterfalls while sharing the earbuds for Kitty's ipod.

"You know, Devin, I've been thinking." Kitty said.

"Uh-oh." Devin said, bracing herself.

"Maybe we should stay." Kitty said seriously.

"You want to stay?" Devin asked dubiously. "You realize it's just going to be more of the same if we do, right? And these batteries won't last forever. Normally you can barely even handle losing your connection to the internet for an hour."

"Pfft! Who needs the internet when you've got magic and big evil to slay?" Kitty retorted.

"I thought you preferred _Harry Potter_."

"Well, we're not in the Potter-verse. We're here; and I'll take what I can get." Kitty said firmly. "Come on. Do you really want to go home? This has to be like a dream come true for you! It's not like we really have anyone waiting for us back there."

"You have your parents and your brother." Devin reminded her. Kitty frowned. "Besides, it's not like they need our help. We both know how this ends. They're more than capable of saving this world without us. But we need to get back to ours before you run out of medicine." Right now her greatest concern was taking care of her best friend.

"Don't treat me like I'm crazy. I can take that from anyone but you." Kitty said sternly. "And don't talk to me about my family. You know how I feel about them. I don't want to leave. I haven't felt this alive since—since before you know what. I want this. _I need this._ Our whole lives we've dreamed of going off on some big adventure, and now we've landed smack dab at the beginning of the biggest one of all! _Please_, don't make me leave. Not now. This'll do me more good than any amount of pills ever could; besides, aren't you worried about _them_? These guys are your childhood heroes and something is seriously out of whack here. We need to stay and brainwash Aragorn into becoming king."

"Don't you mean _convince_?" Devin asked.

"Now, Devin," Kitty said, "you know the only 'convincing' I do is with my fists…"

"Okay, 'brainwashing' it is." Devin said, smiling wanly. "If you're sure this is what you really want then I'll stand by you. To be honest, I'm also worried about what might happen to our world should Sauron win—if two powerless girls can manage to slip through an inter-dimensional rift I'd hate to think what an evil Maiar like Sauron would be capable of, if he ever found it. But if at any point you start to change your mind, and decide you need to go home then please, _please_ tell me. I can't lose you, too."

"Don't worry." Kitty said, smiling as she hugged her best friend. "I promise to give you a heads up if I start noticing any red flags that mean I might be heading for a relapse. Come on, let's go find the hobbits. Frodo should be awake by now, right?"

"All right." Devin said. "But we should probably let Elrond and Gandalf know we changed our minds; you know, _before_ they waste valuable time trying fix a problem that's no longer a rush-job for us."

"His strength returns." Elrond observed as he and Gandalf watched from a balcony while Frodo walked out into the courtyard below with Sam to reunite with Merry, Pippin, Devin, and Kitty. There was great joy and relief on all their faces. Kitty pulled a surprised Frodo into a tight hug and spun around with him while Sam fussed and the others laughed. It was obvious they had all become good friends.

"That wound will never fully heal." Gandalf said. "He will carry it all the rest of his life."

"And yet to have come so far still bearing the Ring the Hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil." Elrond pointed out. Even now Frodo was continuing to heal much faster than they had anticipated.

"It is a burden he should never have had to bear. We can ask no more of Frodo." Gandalf said.

"Gandalf, the enemy is moving." Elrond said pointedly. "Sauron's forces are massing in the East. His Eye is fixed on Rivendell. From what those girls told us yesterday it sounded as though we should be able to defeat him, yet I cannot see that happening; and they also say something is wrong with the way some events have proceeded up to this point. I have not known an elf named Glorfindel since the first war against Sauron. Given their emphasis on how much of an effect even the most seemingly insignificant change can have, I find this troubling. And Saruman, you tell me, has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin."

"His treachery runs deeper than you know. By foul craft, Saruman has crossed Orcs with Goblin-men." Gandalf said. "He is breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard. An army that can move in sunlight and cover great distance at speed. Saruman is coming for the Ring."

"This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves." Elrond said, furrowing his brow. "We do not have the strength to fight both Mordor and Isengard!" Gandalf fell silent and looked away. "Gandalf." The great elf-lord said firmly. "The Ring cannot stay here." As Gandalf looked up he could see some of the 'guests' the girls had mentioned were arriving at the gates of Rivendell: a fair-haired elf clothed in the style of Mirkwood rode in on a splendid white horse; and several dwarves, among whom were one or two familiar faces.

"This peril belongs to all Middle Earth." Elrond said, following the wizard's gaze with his own eyes. "They must decide now how to end it. The time of the Elves is over. My people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we have gone? The Dwarves? They hide in mountains seeking riches. They care not for the troubles of others."

"It is in Men that we must place our hope." Gandalf said, turning back to face his old friend.

"Men?" Elrond asked. "Men are weak. The race of Men is failing." He turned and walked back inside his study. Gandalf followed. "The blood of Númenor is all but spent, its pride and dignity forgotten. It is because of Men the Ring survives. I was there, Gandalf. I was there three-thousand years ago; I was there the day the strength of Men failed. It should have ended that day, but evil was allowed to endure. Isildur kept the Ring. The line of Kings is broken. There is no strength left in the world of Men. They are scattered, divided, leaderless."

"There is one who could unite them." Gandalf said. "One who could reclaim the throne of Gondor." The girls had hinted at this as well when they spoke of Aragorn and the shards of Narsil.

"He turned from that path a long time ago." Elrond said. "He has chosen exile."

Later that day Devin was enjoying some alone time while Kitty showed Merry and Pippin how to make paper airplanes, and had decided to take a walk and explore a little more of Rivendell. She paused when she felt eyes on her and turned to see that a very handsome, even beautiful, male elf with shining golden hair and silver eyes was staring at her with open curiosity. He must not have seen many humans her height before. Everyone (aside from the hobbits) seemed to be absurdly tall in this world. She stared back, taking in more details about him. He was dressed in mostly greens and browns, and his clothing was of a different style than the Rivendell Elves. He was also wearing a traveling cloak and leading a white horse. From this it was obvious he must be a traveler who had just arrived; the bow and quiver of arrows slung over his shoulders were the final clues as to who he might be.

"Am I correct in guessing that you are Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood? If you are looking for Lord Elrond, I believe you will find him in that building." Devin told him, pointing to the one she had met with him in earlier to discuss her and Kitty's change of heart. "If not, then I'm sure you'll at least be able to find someone who knows their way around better than I do."

"You have me at a disadvantage." Legolas said with a polite smile. So perfect and graceful in form was the human girl before him, despite her small stature, that one might have mistaken her for a young elf. He could not help but be intrigued by her unusual eye-color. Her irises were such a deep blue that they were nearly violet. "For someone I have never met before you seem to know much about me, yet I know nothing of you. Tell me, what is your name?"

"My name is—" Devin began to politely introduce herself, when she was suddenly tackled from behind and nearly knocked off her feet by a very familiar body mass.

"—Devin!" Kitty shouted excitedly, jumping up and down. "Devin! Devin! Guess what? I just saw some dwarves—and even _they_ were taller than you! Haha, isn't that funny?" Kitty froze mid-laugh when she noticed Mr. Tall-blonde-and-handsome standing just behind her short friend. "Well, _hello _there." She said flirtatiously, putting on her 'come hither' eyes, while she leaned on Devin. "And who might you be?"

"Prince Legolas of Mirkwood." Devin deadpanned, unamused to find herself being reduced to Kitty's armrest. "Legolas, Kitty. Kitty, Legolas. There, now we all know each other's names." She said, introducing them. "Kitty, please get off me. You know I how demeaning I think it is when you do that."

"Greetings, your Royal Hotness." Kitty purred at the elf-prince as she eased off of the somewhat disgruntled Devin.

Legolas raised an eyebrow at Kitty. _No._

"I thank you for your advice, Lady Devin. I shall go see Lord Elrond at once." He said, excusing himself. The two girls watched him walk away.

"Call me." Kitty called after him. Devin smiled wryly and shook her head.

"I can't believe you."

"What? I can't help it. Elves are pretty. It's practically a reverse-harem up in here."

"You're incorrigible." Devin said, laughing.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I love it when you oh so casually use words over three syllables long?" Kitty said with a grin. "Come on. It's almost time for the 'Yay, Frodo survived!' feast. Let's go decide what to wear so you can help me tame this massive mane of gorgeous blonde curls into something a little more black-tie."

The girls had only just finished doing each other's hair in Devin's room when they were summoned to the hall by the ringing of many bells. They met up with the hobbits along the way, and found the hall of Elrond's house was filled with folk: Elves for the most part, though there were a few guests of other sorts, some of whom they had already met. Elrond, as was his custom, sat in a great chair at the end of the long table upon the dais; and next to him on the one side sat Arwen, on the other side sat Gandalf. Once again, Devin noted that Glorfindel appeared to be absent. She was beginning to think he may not exist at all, which she found very strange and puzzling.  
Frodo looked at them in wonder, for without the poisoned splinters in his wound to cloud his vision, he could now see Lady Arwen in full beauty. Young she was and yet not so. The braids of her dark hair were touched by no frost; her white arms and clear face were flawless and smooth, and the light of stars was in her bright eyes, blue as a cloudless night; yet queenly she looked, and thought and knowledge were in her glance, as of one who has known many things that the years bring. Above her brow her head was covered with a cap of silver lace netted with small gems, glittering white; but her soft grey raiment had no ornament save a girdle of leaves wrought in silver. Such loveliness in a living thing Frodo had never seen before nor imagined in his mind; and looking closer even Gandalf, whom he thought he knew so well, was revealed as a lord of dignity and power beside Elrond. The wizard's long white hair, his sweeping silver beard, and his broad shoulders, made him look like some wise king of ancient legend. In his aged face under great snowy brows his wise eyes were set like coals that could leap suddenly into fire. The hobbit was both surprised and abashed to find that he had a seat at Elrond's table among all these folk so high and fair. Though he had a suitable chair, and was raised upon several cushions, he felt very small, and rather out of place; but that feeling quickly passed. The feast was merry and the food all that his hunger could desire. It was some time before he looked about him again or even turned to his neighbors.  
He looked first for his friends. Sam had begged to be allowed to wait on his master but hat been told that for this time he was a guest of honor. Frodo could see him now, sitting with Pippin, Merry, Kitty, and Devin at the upper end of one of the side stables close to the dais. He could see no sign of Strider.

His friends also noticed this from their table; and, though she said nothing, Devin was very curious about where he might be since she was pretty sure his whereabouts during this time had remained secret even in the book. Kitty somehow managed to end up in an eating contest with Pippin and Merry, and Devin soon found herself in conversation with the red-haired dwarf seated across from her.

"I am Gimli, son of Glóin." He introduced himself pleasantly as he piled more food onto his plate, and pointed out his father, who was seated next to Frodo at the table on the dais. "And you, lassie?"

"I am Devin Gladwin, daughter of John Gladwin." Devin replied politely in the same fashion.

"Hmm… those names are strange to me." He said thoughtfully. "Where are you from, Devin Gladwin?"

"Just 'Devin' is fine. I come from a land far, far away from here." She said with a wry smile. "And I shall leave it at that for now. A girl has to have some mystery in order to remain interesting, don't you think?"

"You're interesting enough without it." Gimli said as he ate. "It's nice to see two girls with such healthy appetites."

"We're making up for lost time." Devin said with a wry smile. "It was a rough journey here for us, but I don't want to bore you with the details. I'm sure you'll hear about it at the Council tomorrow." Once again Devin felt as though she was being watched. She looked up and found herself staring into the clear and bright grey eyes of Legolas again. She felt her cheeks heat up slightly as she looked back down and took another sip of wine. She hoped she wasn't blushing. She didn't usually get flustered so easily. Maybe she should lay off the wine…


	10. Chapter 10

I own nothing but my OCs.

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**Chapter 10: The Hall of Fire**

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At length the feast came to an end. Elrond and Arwen rose and went down the hall, and the company followed them in due order. The doors were thrown open, and they went across a wide passage through other doors, and came into a further hall. In it were no tables, but a bright fire was burning in a great hearth between the carven pillars on either side.  
Frodo found himself walking with Gandalf.

"This is the Hall of Fire." Said the wizard. "Here you will hear many songs and tales—if you can keep awake. But except on high days it usually stands empty and quiet, and people come here who wish for peace, and thought. There is always a fire here, all the year round, but there is little other light."

As Elrond entered and went towards the seat prepared for him, Elvish minstrels began to make sweet music. Slowly the hall filled, and Frodo looked with delight upon the many faces that were gathered together; the golden firelight played upon them and shimmered in their hair. Suddenly he noticed, not far from the further end of the fire, a small dark figure seated on a stool with his back propped against a pillar. Beside him on the ground was a drinking-cup and some bread. Frodo wondered whether he was ill (if people were ever ill in Rivendell), and had been unable to come to the feast. His head seemed sunk in sleep on his breast, and a fold of his dark cloak was drawn over his face. Frodo noticed that Devin was watching the mysterious figure with a kind and knowing smile. She whispered something to Kitty, and the other girl's eyes lit up as she too looked over at the seated figure.  
Elrond went forward and stood beside the silent figure.

"Awake, little master!" he said, with a smile. Then, turning to Frodo, he beckoned to him. "Now at last the hour has come that you have wished for Frodo." He said. "Here is a friend that you have long missed."

The dark figure raised its head and uncovered its face.

"Bilbo!" cried Frodo with sudden recognition, and he sprang forward. Devin and Kitty smiled as they watched the happy reunion.

"Hullo, Frodo my lad!" said Bilbo. "So you have got here at last. I hoped you would manage it. Well, well! So all this feasting is in your honor, I hear. I hope you enjoyed yourself?"

"Why weren't you there?" cried Frodo. "And why haven't I been allowed to see you before?"

"Because you were asleep. I have seen a good deal of _you_. I have sat by your side with Sam each day. But as for the feast, I don't go in for such things much now. And I had something else to do."

"What were you doing?" Kitty asked curiously as she and Devin approached the two hobbits.

"Why sitting and thinking, my young lady. I do a lot of that nowadays, and this is the best place to do it in, as a rule. Wake up, indeed!" Bilbo said, cocking an eye at Elrond. There was a bright twinkle in it and no sign of sleepiness that they could see. "Wake up! I was not asleep, Master Elrond. If you want to know, you have all come out from your feast too soon, and you have disturbed me—in the middle of making up a song. I was stuck over a line or two, and was thinking about them; but now I don't suppose I shall ever get them right. There will be such a deal of singing that the ideas will be driven clean out of my head. I shall have to get my friend the Dúnadan to help me. Where is he?" Kitty smirked. She liked old Bilbo he was great, telling off an elf-lord like it was nothing. Apparently Elrond thought so, too, because he laughed.

"He shall be found." He said. "Then you two shall go into a corner and finish your task, and we will hear it and judge it before we end our merrymaking." Messengers were sent to find Bilbo's friend, though none knew where he was or why he had not been present at the feast.

"Come on. Let's give them a little quality family time to catch up." Devin said, leading Kitty away so the uncle and nephew could talk amongst themselves in peace.

"Aw, but I like Bilbo." Kitty said. "He's spicy."

"You can talk to him later." Devin said reasonably. "Let Frodo have dibs for now. He's been wanting to see his uncle for ages."

"I hear you are quite the musician, Miss Kitty." Elrond said, turning to face the girls. "If you would like, I can have your instrument brought here to you."

"Oh, yes, please!" Kitty said excitedly, lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"Thank you." Devin said, smiling at how happy her friend was to be playing for an audience again. The girls took a seat near the fire while they waited and listened to the beautiful music being woven like a spell by the skilled Elven musicians and were soon once again in the company of Gimli, Merry, and Pippin again. Sam had seated himself nearer to Frodo and Bilbo while he also enjoyed the fired listened to the music. Devin found herself unconsciously searching the room for Legolas. He was conversing with some of the Rivendell Elves who appeared to be his age. When she realized what she was doing she quickly looked away before she was noticed and turned her attention back to her friends.  
Yep. Too much wine.

In the meanwhile Frodo and Bilbo exchanged stories of how they both came to be in Rivendell that night and the most recent news they had heard.

"I hear all kinds of news, from over the Mountains, and out of the South, but hardly anything from the Shire. I heard about the Ring, of course. Gandalf has been here often. Not that he has told me a great deal, he has become closer than ever these last few years. The Dúnadan has told me more. Fancy that ring of mine causing such a disturbance! It is a pity Gandalf did not find out more sooner." Bilbo said. "I could have brought the thing here myself long ago without so much trouble, I have thought several times of going back to Hobbiton for it; but I am getting old, and they would not let me: Gandalf and Elrond, I mean. They seemed to think the Enemy was looking high and low for me, and would make mincemeat of me, if he caught me tottering in the Wild. And Gandalf said: 'The Ring has passed on, Bilbo. It would do no good to you or others if you tried to meddle with it again.' Odd sort of remark, just like Gandalf. But he said he was looking after you, so I let things be. I am frightfully glad to see you safe and sound." He paused and looked at Frodo doubtfully.

"Have you got it here?" he asked in a whisper. "I can't help feeling curious, you know, after all I've heard. I should very much just like to peep at it again."

"Yes, I've got it." Frodo answered, feeling a strange reluctance. "It looks just the same as ever it did."

"Well, I should just like to see it for a moment." Said Bilbo.

When he had dressed, Frodo found that while he slept the Ring had been hung about his neck on a new chain, light but strong. Slowly he drew it out. Bilbo put out his hand. But Frodo quickly drew back the Ring. To his distress and amazement he found that he was no longer looking at Bilbo; a shadow seemed to have fallen between them, and threw it he found himself eyeing a little wrinkled creature with a hungry face and bony groping hands. He felt a desire to strike him.  
The music and singing around them seemed to falter, and a silence fell. Bilbo looked quickly at Frodo's face and passed his hand across his eyes.

"I understand now." He said. "Put it away! I am sorry: sorry you have come in for this burden: sorry about everything. Don't adventures ever have an end? I suppose not. Someone else always has to carry on the story. Well, it can't be helped. I wonder if it's any good trying to finish my book? But don't let's worry about it now—let's have some real News! Tell me all about the Shire!"

Frodo hid the Ring away, and the shadow passed leaving hardly a shred of memory. The light and music of Rivendell were about him again. With the arrival of her trumpet, Kitty began to wow the Elves and their guests with a jazz song called _La Vie en Rose_. The soulful style of play was unlike anything they had ever heard before, and the skill with which Kitty's fingers danced over her instrument was impressive. Bilbo smiled and laughed happily. He found the warm tones of her trumpet very pleasant and interesting to listen to. And every item of news from the Shire that Frodo could tell—aided and corrected now and again by Sam—was of the greatest interest to him, from the felling of the least tree to the pranks of the smallest children in Hobbiton. They were so deep in the doings of the Four Farthings that they did not notice the arrival of a man clad in dark green cloth. For many minutes he stood looking down at them with a smile.  
Devin noticed this and smiled. Curious about where he had been, she got up and crossed the room to talk to him. Bilbo must have caught her movements out the corner of his eye because he suddenly looked up as she approached.

"Ah, there you are at last, Dúnadan!" he cried.

"Strider!" said Frodo. "You seem to have a lot of names."

"Well, _Strider_ is one that I haven't heard before, anyway." Said Bilbo. "What do you call him that for?"

"They call me that in Bree," said Aragorn, laughing, "and that is how I was introduced to him."

"And why do you call him Dúnadan?" Frodo asked as Devin joined them.

"_The_ Dúnadan." Bilbo said. "He is often called that here. But I thought you knew enough Elvish at least to know _dún-adan_: Man of the West, Númenorean. But this is not the time for lessons! Where have you been, my friend?"

"Yes, why weren't you at the feast?" Devin chimed in. "Lady Arwen was there." Aragorn looked down at them gravely.

"I know." He said. "But often I must put mirth aside. Elladan and Elrohir have returned out of the Wild unlooked-for, and they had tidings that I wished to hear at once." Devin furrowed her brow slightly in concern and was about to ask what tidings they had when Bilbo spoke again.

"Well, my dear fellow," said the old hobbit, "now you've heard the news, can't you spare me a moment? I want your help in something urgent. Elrond says this song of mine is to be finished before the evening, and I am stuck. Let's go off into a corner and polish it up!" Aragorn smiled.

"Come then!" he said. "Let me hear it!" Devin smiled wryly as she watched them go. Either the news had turned out to be less important than it had sounded, or he had already relayed it to Elrond and whoever else needed to know. Well, whatever, Aragorn deserved to have a chance to relax after everything he had done for them.

"What is this song she's playing?" Frodo asked, nodding at Kitty, who was still performing. Devin smiled.

"It's _Rhapsody in Blue_, adapted to the trumpet." She said. "It's meant to be played with an orchestra or a band, but Kitty liked it so much she sat down and figured out how to make it work on just one trumpet. She's a genius when it comes to music."

Kitty smiled and bowed once she had finished performing, and her audience began to applaud.

"Thank you! Thank you! I'll be here all week." She said with a cheeky grin before stepping aside and giving the floor back to the Elvish musicians.

"That was quite a performance." Gandalf said, approaching Kitty while she put away her trumpet.

"Thanks."

"I hear you and Miss Devin have decided to stay?" the wizard asked.

"Yeah. Well, I decided I wasn't ready to go home yet, so naturally Devin couldn't leave either." Kitty replied. "I had a feeling it would turn out like that. She'd never leave behind anyone who needed her, probably because she knows what it feels like to be abandoned." Kitty froze as she shut the trumpet's case and turned to stare at wizard with wide eyes before clapping a hand over her own mouth. "Oh my God! I can't believe I just said that!" she whispered. "Just ignore me! Forget I said anything! Ah, I must've had too much wine! The filter on my mouth is always the first thing to go."

"You seem flushed. Perhaps some cool night air would do you good?" Gandalf suggested. Kitty glanced over at Devin, who was conversing with Frodo.

"Yeah, hopefully the air will be cold enough to sober me up." She said glumly, chagrined at herself. Kitty got up and went to stand on the balcony overlooking the valley. She rubbed her arms. It was a bit nippy.

"You seemed troubled." Gandalf said, following her. "Is there something you wish to talk about?"

"Nice try, Dr. Phil, but I've said too much already." Kitty retorted a bit sassily. Gandalf raised an eyebrow at her. "Uh, it's a pop-culture reference from our world… Like I said, just ignore me." She said a bit more sheepishly, avoiding eye-contact.

"Whatever you say shall not be passed beyond the two of us." Said Gandalf patiently.

"Why?" Kitty asked. "Why go out of your way to talk to me?"

"Perhaps I am curious about the two of you." He said. "I have met people of all sorts from many different lands, but never have I met people from another world before."

"Yeah, it's a new experience for me, too." Kitty said with a wry smile. "Well, I guess I might as well explain so you don't get the wrong idea, as long as you promise not to tell anyone else." She cast a sidelong glance at the wizard before continuing. "Devin's adopted. She's not ashamed of it because she loves her adopted-parents, but for a long time she was really hurt that her real mother didn't want her, so she doesn't like to talk about it. There's this quote I heard somewhere before: 'The loneliest people are the kindest. The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they have.' I think it sums Devin up pretty well. She's been through a lot, but she hasn't let it make her hard or bitter… She's a lot stronger than I am." Kitty admitted solemnly, staring out into the cold dark night while she listened to the music and merrymaking coming from the warm hall.

"What are the two of you going to do now?" Frodo asked Devin curiously.

"To be honest, I'm not really sure yet." Devin replied. "I suppose it depends on how things go at the Council tomorrow."

"You will be there as well?" Frodo asked.

"Yes, but mostly just as observers." She said. "We want to help, but we also have to be careful not to interfere too much." Frodo was about to ask her what she meant by that when Kitty walked up to them.

"Are you all right?" Devin asked, concerned. To those who didn't know Kitty well, she might appear to be fine, but the usual mischievous gleam in her eyes was gone, and she seemed almost melancholy.

"I'm fine." Kitty said, not wanting to worry the hobbit. "I think I might've had too much wine. Can you come with me for a sec?"

"Yeah, of course." Devin said, immediately getting to her feet. "Sorry, Frodo, but I've got to get Kitty out of here before she dancing on tables like nobody's watching. Goodnight. See you tomorrow."

"Yes, goodnight." Frodo called after the two girls with a wry smile as they left the hall together.

"So, how are you really?" Devin asked once they were in the privacy of Kitty's room. "On a scale of one to ten."

"I feel like I'm at about a four… but I think it's probably more because I had too much wine." Kitty said thoughtfully. "We both now I'm a sad/sentimental drunk. I was just worried I might start crying before I got to my room."

"Do you want me to stay?" Devin asked.

"Yeah. I don't want to be alone." Kitty said quietly as she lay down on her bed. "My ipod died. Can you sing me to sleep?"

"Any requests?" Devin asked as she sat down on the bed beside her.

"_My Chemical Romance_?" Kitty suggested.

"All right." Devin said with a wan smile and began to sing softly. Kitty soon fell asleep to their song _Venom_.


	11. Chapter 11

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 11: The Council of Elrond**

* * *

Devin woke early the next day, feeling refreshed and well. She considered waking Kitty to make sure she would be up in time for the council, but figured her friend would probably appreciate a little more sleep since she was bound to wake up feeling a little hung-over after all the wine she had consumed the previous evening. Devin walked along the terraces above the loud-flowing Bruinen, where she met Frodo and Sam; and watched the pale, cool sun rise above the far mountains with them, and shine down, slanting through the thin silver mist; the dew upon the yellow leaves was glimmering, and the woven nets of gossamer twinkled on every bush. Sam walked beside them, saying nothing, but sniffing the air, and looking every now and again with wonder in his eyes at the great heights in the East. The snow was white upon their peaks.  
On a seat cut in the stone beside a turn in the path they came upon Gandalf and Bilbo deep in talk.

"Hullo! Good morning!" said Bilbo. "Feel ready for the great council?"

"I feel ready for anything." Frodo answered. "But most of all I should like to go walking today and explore the valley. I should like to get into those pine-woods up there." He pointed away far up the side of Rivendell to the north.

"You may have your chance later." Gandalf said. "But we cannot make any plans yet. There is much to hear and decide today."

Suddenly as they were talking a single clear bell rang out.

"That is the warning bell of the Council of Elrond." Cried Gandalf. "Come along now! Both you and Bilbo are wanted. You, too, Miss Devin."

Frodo, Bilbo, and Devin followed the wizard quickly along the winding path back to the house; behind them, uninvited and for the moment forgotten, trotted Sam. Devin sent him a slight conspiratorial smile and held a finger to her lips. Sam nodded silently.  
Gandalf led them to the porch where Frodo had found his friends the afternoon before. The light of the clear autumn morning was now glowing in the valley. The noise of bubbling waters came up from the foaming riverbed. Birds were singing, and a wholesome peace lay on the land. To Frodo his dangerous flight, and the rumors of the darkness growing in the world outside, already seemed only the memories of a troubled dream; but the faces that were turned to meet them as they entered were grave.  
Elrond was there, and several others were seated in silence about him. Devin was surprised to see that Kitty had already beaten her there, though her friend did not seem too happy about it. She had her eyes squeezed shut and was massaging her forehead with her fingers in an attempt to relieve her hangover headache. Elrond drew Frodo to a seat by his side, and presented him to the company, saying:

"Here, my friends, is the hobbit, Frodo son of Drogo. Few have come hither through greater peril or on an errand more urgent." He then pointed out and named those present whom Frodo had not met before while Bilbo, Gandalf, and Devin took the remaining seats between Frodo and Kitty. First Elrond introduced Glóin's son Gimli. There were also several other counselors of Elrond's household, of whom Erestor was the chief; and with him was Galdor, an Elf from the Grey Havens who had come on an errand from Círdan the Shipwright. Legolas was there as a messenger from his father, Thranduil, the King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood. And seated a little apart was a tall man with a handsome and noble face, blue-eyed with light-brown hair, proud and stern of glance.  
He was cloaked and booted as if for a journey on horseback; and indeed though his garments were rich, and his cloak was lined with fur, they were stained with long travel. He had a collar of silver in which a single white stone was set; his locks were shorn about his shoulders. On a baldric he wore a great horn tipped with silver that now was laid upon his knees. He gazed at Frodo and Bilbo with sudden wonder.

"Here," said Elrond, turning to Gandalf, "is Boromir, a man from the South. He arrived in the grey morning, and seeks for counsel. I have bidden him to be present, for here his questions will be answered." Devin knew even before Elrond had spoken who this man must be, but she could have sworn his description in the book had been a little different.

"Hey," Kitty whispered, leaning close, "is it just me, or does that guy look really familiar?"

Not all that was spoken and debated in the Council need be mentioned. Much of what was said was already known to the two girls, particularly Devin, who remembered the original story in more detail than her friend; but it served as a good refresher course for them both. Much was said of events in the world outside, especially in the South, and the wide lands east of the Mountains. Of these things Frodo had already heard many rumors; but the tale of Glóin was new to him, and when the dwarf spoke he listened attentively. It appeared that amid the splendor of their works of hand the hearts of the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain were troubled.

"It is now many years ago," said Glóin, "that a shadow of disquiet fell upon our people. Whence it came we did not at first perceive. Words began to be whispered in secret: it was said that we were hemmed in a narrow place, and greater wealth an splendor would be found in a wider world. Some spoke of Moria: the mighty works of our fathers that are called in our own tongue Khazad-dûm; and they declared that now at last we had the power and numbers to return." Glóin sighed. "Moria! Moria! Wonder of the Northern world! Too deep we delved there, and woke the nameless fear. Long have its vast mansions lain empty since the children of Durin fled. But now we spoke of it again with longing, and yet with dread; for no dwarf has dared to pass the doors of Khazad-dûm for many lives of kings, save Thrór only, and he perished. At last, however, Balin listened to the whispers, and resolved to go; and though Dáin did not give leave willingly, he took with him Ori and Óin and many of our folk, and they went away south.  
"That was nigh on thirty years ago. For a while we had news and it seemed good: messages reported that Moria had been entered and a great work begun there. Then there was silence, and no word has ever come from Moria since.  
"Then, about a year ago a messenger came to Dáin, but not from Moria—from Mordor: a horseman in the night who called Dáin to his gate. The Lord Sauron the Great, so he said, wished for our friendship. Rings he would give for it, such as he gave of old. And he asked urgently concerning _hobbits_, of what kind they were, and where they dwelt. 'For Sauron knows,' said he, 'That one of these was known to you on a time.'  
"At this we were greatly troubled, and we gave no answer. And then his fell voice was lowered, and he would have sweetened it if he could. 'As a small token only of your friendship Sauron asks this,' he said: 'that you should find this thief,' such was his word, 'and get from him, willing or no, a little ring, the least of rings, that once he stole. It is but a trifle that Sauron fancies, and an earnest of your good will. Find it, and three rings that the dwarf-sires possessed of old shall be returned to you, and the realm of Moria shall be yours forever. Find only news of the thief, whether he still lives and where, and you shall have great reward and lasting friendship from the Lord. Refuse, and things will not seem so well. Do you refuse?"  
"At this his voice came like a hiss of snakes, and all who stood by shuddered; but Dáin said: 'I say neither yea nor nay. I must consider this message and what it means under its fair cloak.'  
" 'Consider well, but not too long,' said he.  
" 'The time of my thought is my own to spend,' answered Dáin.  
" 'For the present,' said he, and rode into the darkness.  
"Heavy have the hearts of our chieftains been since that night. We needed not the fell voice of the messenger to warn us that his words held both menace and deceit; for we knew already that the power that has re-entered Mordor has not changed, and ever it betrayed us of old. Twice the messenger has returned, and has gone unanswered. The third and last time, so he says, is soon to come, before the ending of the year.  
"And so I have been sent at last by Dáin to warn Bilbo that he is sought by the Enemy, and to learn, if may be, why he desires this ring, this least of rings. Also we crave the advice of Elrond. For the Shadow grows and draws nearer. We discover that messengers have come also to King Brand in Dale, and that he is afraid. We fear that he may yield. Already war is gathering on his eastern borders. If we make no answer, the Enemy may move Men of his rule to assail King Brand, and Dáin also."

"You have done well to come." Said Elrond. "You will hear today all that you need in order to understand the purposes of the Enemy. There is naught that you can do, other than to resist, with hope or without it. But you do not stand alone. You will learn that your trouble is but part of the trouble of all the western world. The Ring! What shall we do with the Ring, the least of rings, the trifle that Sauron fancies? That is the doom that we must deem.  
"That is the purpose for which you are called hither. Called, I say, though I have not called you to me, strangers from distant lands. You have come and are here met, in this very nick of time, by chance as it may seem. Yet it is not so." Elrond's keen eyes rested briefly on Devin and Kitty. "Believe rather that it is so ordered that we, who sit here, and none others, must now find counsel for the peril of the world. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

Devin furrowed her brow slightly in confusion while she watched Frodo quietly step forward and place the ring on a stone pedestal. Wait a minute, weren't they supposed to talk more about the background story and finally explain how the Ring came to be in Frodo's hands? There had been at least two or three pages worth of that in the book. Did this mean everyone else had already been briefed before their arrival?  
"So it is true." Boromir mumbled lowly to himself. All were silent as they stared at the small golden ring until Boromir stood from his seat. "In a dream I saw the eastern sky grow dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying:  
_Seek for the Sword that was broken:  
In Imaldris it dwells;  
There shall be counsels taken  
Stronger than Morgul-spells.  
There shall be shown a token  
That Doom is near at hand,  
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,  
And the Halfling forth shall stand._

Is then the doom of Minas Tirith come at last?"

"The words were not _the doom of Minas Tirith_." Devin said when no one else spoke. "But doom and great deeds are indeed at hand, for Isildur's Bane is found."

"And who are you, and what have you to do with Minas Tirith?" asked Boromir, looking at her with skepticism. "Why does a mere girl sit at the Council of Elrond?"

"Oh, hell no." Kitty muttered tartly as both girls tensed and stared daggers at him for the sexist remark. "You'd better respect her if you want to keep your teeth."

"Kitty." Devin said lowly, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Go easy on him. He doesn't know who he's messing with."

"This 'mere girl' is Devin Gladwin, and her surly companion is Kitty Larson. There is more to them than meets the eye. They are both Readers from another world who possess much knowledge of the history and legends of our own. They are also capable of reading the flow of future events." Elrond said, surprising the girls and astonishing the rest of those gathered. All present, even Frodo and Aragorn, looked at them with wonder; and Devin found herself under the watchful stare of Legolas' keen grey eyes again.

"So much for keeping it a secret." Kitty whispered, echoing Devin's own thoughts.

"Another world? Such a thing is not possible." Boromir said, reluctant to believe without further evidence. "What proof have you to verify their claims?"

Elrond glanced at the girls. The girls looked at each other for a moment, silently arguing over who was going to take it from there. The batteries on their phones were all but dead, and they weren't about to waste them on a chauvinistic jerk.

"I myself have seen proofs of their otherworldliness." Aragorn spoke up in their defense. "They brought with them from their world several items, though it is my understanding that their power is now fading, capable of amazing things without the use of any magic: thin black boxes that could shine light in the darkness and produce strange sounds; a small metal box called a lighter that allows one to hold a flame in hand without match or torch; a can of mist capable of shielding the wearer even from the incorrigible midges of the Midgewater Marshes; and another can containing a substance called hairspray was used by Miss Devin in concert with the lighter to produce a spray of flames."

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter? Has it not occurred to you that they could have been tricks?" Boromir asked.

"He isn't just any old ordinary Ranger." Kitty said, standing. "This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He's Isildur's heir. So, how about showing a little respect?"

"He is Isildur's heir?" asked Boromir with doubt in his eyes as he looked again at Aragorn.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Kitty added.

"Please, sit down, Kitty." Aragorn said calmly as Devin tugged on her friend's sleeve, silently bidding her to do the same before a fight broke out between them.

"Gondor has no king." Boromir told Kitty. "Gondor needs no king." He added, shooting a look at Aragorn. Devin sighed, stood up, and crossed the porch to Boromir. She motined for him to lean down so she could and whisper into his ear. The others, who could not hear her, (the exception being a few of the Elves) were amazed at the look of wide-eyed astonishment on the proud man's face as he stepped back and stared at Devin with a newfound wonder. Even in Gondor very few knew of what she had just spoken. Kitty smirked at the priceless expression of bewilderment on Boromir's face as Devin quietly returned to her seat with dignity.

"Dude, what did you say?" Kitty whispered curiously.

"Nothing major." Devin whispered back. "Just something he already knows but that I couldn't possibly have, unless Elrond was telling the truth: Faramir saw the dream three times before he ever did, even though Boromir was the one their father wanted to come, and the reason for this is because his younger brother strongly shares the strength of his Númenorean ancestors. "

"Oh, yeah. Trolling fictional characters like a boss." Kitty whispered, grinning, while they bumped fists as inconspicuously as possible.

"Isildur's Bane is found, you say." Said Boromir thoughtfully as he took his seat again. "I have seen a bright ring in the Halfling's hand; but Isildur perished ere this age of the world began, they say. How do the Wise know that this ring is his? And how has it passed down the years, until it is brought hither by so strange a messenger?"

"That shall be told." Said Elrond.

"But not yet, I beg, Master!" said Bilbo. "Already the Sun is climbing to noon, and I feel the need of something to strengthen me."

"I had not named you." Elrond said, smiling. "But I do so now. Come! Tell us your tale. And if you have not yet cast your story into verse, you may tell it in plain words. The briefer, the sooner you shall be refreshed."

To some there Bilbo's tale was wholly new, and they listened with amazement while the old hobbit, actually not at all displeased, recounted his adventure with Gollum, at full length. He did not omit a single riddle. He would have given also an account of his party and disappearance from the Shire, if he had been allowed; but Elrond raised his hand.

"Well told, my friend," he said, "but that is enough at this time. For the moment it suffices to know that the Ring passed to Frodo, your heir. Let him now speak!"

Then, less willingly than Bilbo, Frodo told of all his dealings with the Ring from the day that it passed into his keeping. Every step of his journey from Hobbiton to the Ford of Bruinen was questioned and considered, and everything that he could recall concerning the Black Riders was examined. At last he sat down again.

"Not bad." Bilbo said to him. "You would have made a good story of it, if they hadn't kept on interrupting. I tried to make a few notes, but we shall have to go over it all again together some time, if I am to write it up. There are whole chapters of stuff before you ever got here!"

"Yes, it made quite a long tale." Answered Frodo. "But the story still does not seem complete to me. I still want to know a good deal, especially about Gandalf." Galdor of the Havens, who sat near by, overheard him.

"You speak for me also." He cried, and turning to Elrond he said: "The Wise may have good reason to believe that the Halfling's trove is indeed the Great Ring of long debate, unlikely though it may seem to those who know less. But may we not hear the proofs? And I would ask this also. What of Saruman? He is learned in the lore of the Rings, yet he is not among us. What is his counsel—if he knows the things that we have heard?"

"The questions that you ask, Galdor, are bound together." Said Elrond. "I had not overlooked them, and they shall be answered. But these things it is the part of Gandalf to make clear; and I call upon him last, for it is the place of honor, and in all this matter he has been the chief."

"Some, Galdor," said Gandalf, "would think the tidings of Glóin, and the pursuit of Frodo, proof enough that the Halfling's trove is a thing of great worth to the Enemy. Yet it is a ring. What then? The Nine the Nazgûl keep. The Seven are taken or destroyed." At this Glóin stirred but did not speak. "The Three we know of. What then is this but the one he desires so much?  
"There is indeed a wide waste of time between the River and the Mountain, the loss and the finding. But the gap in the knowledge of the Wise has been filled at last. Yet too slowly. For the Enemy has been close behind, closer even than I feared. And well is it that not until this year, this very summer, as it seems, did he learn the full truth.  
"Some here will remember that many years ago I myself dared to pass the doors of the Necromancer in Dol Guldur, and secretly explored his ways, and found thus that our fears were true: he was none other than Sauron, our Enemy of old, at length taking shape and power again. Some, too, will remember also that Saruman dissuaded us from open deeds against him, and for long we watched him only. Yet at last, as his shadow grew, Saruman yielded, and the Council put forth its strength and drove the evil out of Mirkwood—and that was in the very year of the finding of this Ring: a strange chance, if chance it was.  
"But we were too late, as Elrond foresaw. Sauron also had watched us, and had long prepared against our stroke, governing Mordor from afar through Minas Morgul, where his Nine servants dwelt, until all was ready. Then he gave way before us, but only feigned to flee, and soon after came to the Dark Tower and openly declared himself. Then for the last time the Council met; for now we learned that he was seeking ever more eagerly for the One. We feared then that he had some news of it that we knew nothing of. But Saruman said nay, and repeated what he had said to us before: that the One would never again be found in Middle Earth.  
" 'At the worst,' said he, 'our Enemy knows that we have it not, and that it is still lost. But what was lost may yet be found, he thinks. Fear not! His hope will cheat him. Have I not earnestly studied this matter? Into Anduin the Great it fell; and long ago, while Sauron slept, it was rolled down the River to the Sea. There let it lie until the End.' "

Gandalf fell silent, gazing eastward from the porch to the far peaks of the Misty Mountains, at whose great roots the peril of the world had so long lain hidden. He sighed.

"There I was at fault." he said. "I was lulled by the words of Saruman the Wise; but I should have sought the truth sooner, and out peril would now be less."

"We were all at fault," said Elrond, "and but for your vigilance the Darkness, maybe, would already be upon us. But say on!"

"From the first my heart misgave me, against all reason that I knew," said Gandalf, "and I desired to know how this thing came to Gollum, and how long he had possessed it. So I set a watch for him, guessing that he would ere long come forth from his darkness to seek for his treasure. He came, but he escaped and was not found. And then alas! I let the matter rest, watching and waiting only, as we have too often done.  
"Time passed with many cares, until my doubts were reawakened again to sudden fear. Whence cams the hobbit's ring? What, if my fear was true, should be done with it? Those things I must decide. But I spoke yet of my dread to none, knowing the peril of an untimely whisper, if it went astray. In all the long wars with the Dark Tower treason has ever been our greatest foe.  
"That was seventeen years ago. Soon I became aware that spies of many sorts, even beasts and birds, were gathered round the Shire, and my fear grew. I called for the help of the Dúnedain, and their watch was doubled; and I opened my heart to Aragorn, the heir of Isildur."

"And I," said Aragorn, "counseled that we should hunt for Gollum, too late though it may seem. And since it seemed fit that Isildur's heir should labor to repair Isildur's fault, I went with Gandalf on the long and hopeless search."

Then Gandalf told how they had explored the whole length of Wilderland, down even to the Mountains of Shadow and the fences of Mordor.

"There we had a rumor of him, and we guess that he dwelt there long in the dark hills; but we never found him, and at last I despaired. And then in my despair I thought again of a test that might make the finding of Gollum unneeded. The Ring itself might tell if it were the One. The memory of words at the Council came back to me: words of Saruman, half-heeded at the time. I heard them now clearly in my heart.  
" 'The Nine, the Seven, and the Three,' he said, 'had each their proper gem. Not so the One. It was round and unadorned, as it were one of the lesser rings; but its maker set marks upon it that the skilled, maybe, could still see and read.'  
"What those marks were he had not said. Who now would know? The maker. And Saruman? But great though his lore may be, it must have a source. What hand save Sauron's ever held this ring, ere it was lost? The hand of Isildur alone.  
"With that thought, I forsook the chase and passed swiftly to Gondor. In former days the members of my order had been well received there, but Saruman most of all. Often he had been for long the guest of the Lords of the City. Less welcome did the Lord Denethor show me then than of old, and grudgingly he permitted me to search among his hoarded scrolls and books.  
" 'If indeed you look only, as you say, for records of ancient days, and the beginnings of the City, read on!' he said. 'For me what was is less dark than what is to come, and that is my care. But unless you have more skill even than Saruman, who has studied here long, you will find naught that is not well known to me, who am master of the lore of this City.'  
"So said Denethor. And yet there lie in his hoards many records that few now can read, even of the lore-masters, for their scripts and tongues have become dark to later med. And Boromir, there lies in Minas Tirith still, unread, I guess, by any save Saruman and myself since the kings failed, a scroll that Isildur made himself. For Isildur did not march away straight from the war in Mordor, as some have told the tale."

"Some in the North, maybe," Boromir broke in. "All know in Gondor that he went first to Minas Arnor and dwelt a while with his nephew Meneldil, instructing him, before he committed to him rule of the South Kingdom. In that time he planted there the last sapling of the White Tree in memory of his brother."

"But in that time also he made the scroll," said Gandalf; 'and that is not remembered in Gondor, it would seem. For this scroll concerns the Ring, and thus wrote Isildur therein:

_The Great Ring shall go now to be an heirloom of the North Kingdom; but records of it shall be left in Gondor, where also dwell the heirs of Elendil, lest a time come when the memory of these great matters shall grow dim._

"And after these words Isildur described the Ring, such as he found it.

_It was hot when I first took it, hot as glede, and my hand was scorched, so that I doubt if ever again I shall be free of the pain if it. Yet even as I write it is cooled, and it seemeth to shrink, though it loseth neither its beauty nor its shape. Already the writing upon it, which at first was clear as red flame, fadeth and is now only barely to be read. It is fashioned in the Elven-script of Eregion, for they have no letters in Mordor for such subtle work; but the language is unknown to me. I deem it to be a tongue of the Black Land, since it is foul and uncouth. What evil it saith I do not know; but I trace here a copy of it lest it fade beyond recall. The Ring misseth, maybe, the heat of Sauron's hand, which was black and yet burned like fire, and so Gil-galad was destroyed; and maybe were the gold made hot again, the writing would be refreshed. But for my part I will risk no hurt to this thing: of all the works of Sauron the only fair. It is precious to me, though I buy it with great pain._


	12. Chapter 12

I own nothing but my OCs.

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_**Previously:**_

_It was hot when I first took it, hot as glede, and my hand was scorched, so that I doubt if ever again I shall be free of the pain if it. Yet even as I write it is cooled, and it seemeth to shrink, though it loseth neither its beauty nor its shape. Already the writing upon it, which at first was clear as red flame, fadeth and is now only barely to be read. It is fashioned in the Elven-script of Eregion, for they have no letters in Mordor for such subtle work; but the language is unknown to me. I deem it to be a tongue of the Black Land, since it is foul and uncouth. What evil it saith I do not know; but I trace here a copy of it lest it fade beyond recall. The Ring misseth, maybe, the heat of Sauron's hand, which was black and yet burned like fire, and so Gil-galad was destroyed; and maybe were the gold made hot again, the writing would be refreshed. But for my part I will risk no hurt to this thing: of all the works of Sauron the only fair. It is precious to me, though I buy it with great pain._

* * *

**Chapter 12: The Council of Elrond - Part 2**

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"When I read these words," said Gandalf, "my quest was ended. For the traced writing was indeed as Isildur guessed, in the tongue of Mordor and the servants of the Tower. And what was said therein was already known. For in the day that Sauron first put on the One, Celebrimbor, maker of the Three, was aware of him, and from afar he heard him speak these words, and so his evil purposes were revealed.  
"At once I took my leave of Denethor, but even as I went northwards, messages came to me out of Lórien that Aragorn had passed that way, and that he had found the creature called Gollum. Therefore I went first to meet him and hear his tale. Into what deadly perils he had gone alone I dared not guess."

"There is little need to tell of them." Said Aragorn. "If a man must needs walk in sight of the Black gate, or tread the deadly flowers of the Morgul Vale, then perils he will have. I, too, despaired at last, and I began my homeward journey. And then, by fortune, I came suddenly on what I sought: the marks of soft feet beside a muddy pool. But now the trail was fresh and swift, and it lead not to Mordor but away. Along the skirts of the Dead Marshes I followed it, and then I had him. Lurking by a stagnant mere, peering in the water as the dark eve fell, I caught him, Gollum. He was covered in green slime. He will never love me, I fear; for he bit me, and I was not gentle. Nothing more did I ever get from his mouth than the marks of his teeth. I deemed it the worst part of all my journey, the road back, watching him day and night, making him walk before me with a halter on his neck, gagged, until he was tamed by lack of drink and food, driving him ever towards Mirkwood. I brought him there at last and gave him to the Elves, for we had agreed that this should be done; and I was glad to be rid of his company, for my part I hope never to look upon him again; but Gandalf came and endured long speech with him."

Kitty raised an eyebrow. Dang. Gollum must be a real pain in the ass if Aragorn had preferred strolling around outside _Mordor_ to his company.

"Yes, long and weary," said Gandalf, "but not without profit. For one thing, the tale he told of his loss agreed with that which Bilbo has now told openly for the first time; but that mattered little, since I had already guessed it. But I learned then first that Gollum's ring came out of the Great River nigh to Gladden Fields. And I learned also that he had possessed it long. Many lives of his small kind. The power of the ring had lengthened his years far beyond their span; but that power only the Great Rings wield.  
"And if that is not proof enough, Galdor, there is the other test I spoke of. Upon this very ring which you see here, round and unadorned, the letters that Isildur reported my still be read, if one has the strength of will to set the golden ring in the fire a while. That I have done, and this I have read:

_Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!_

The change in the wizard's voice was astounding. Suddenly it became menacing, powerful, harsh as stone. A shadow seemed to pass over the high sun, and the porch for a moment grew dark. All trembled, and the Elves stopped their ears. Kitty felt as though a dementor had tried to give her a peck on the cheek or something.

"Never before has any voice dared to utter words of that tongue in Imladris, Gandalf the Grey." Elrond said as the shadow passed and the company breathed once more.

"And let us hope that none will ever speak it here again." Answered Gandalf. "Nonetheless, I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond. For if that tongue is not soon to be heard in every corner of the West, then let all put doubt aside that this thing is indeed what the Wise have declared: the treasure of the Enemy, fraught with all his malice; and in it lies a great part of his strength of old. Out of the Black Years come the words that the smiths of Eregion heard, and knew that they had been betrayed:

_One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,  
One Ring to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them._

"Know also, my friends, that I learned more yet from Gollum. He was loth to speak and his tale was unclear, but it is beyond all doubt that he went to Mordor, and there all that he knew was forced from him. Thus the Enemy knows that the One is found, that it was long in the Shire; and since his servants have pursued it almost to our door, he soon will know, already he may know, even as I speak, that we have it here."

All sat silent for a while, until at length Boromir spoke.

"He is a small thing, you say, this Gollum? Small but great in mischief. What became of him? To what doom did you put him?"

"He is in prison, but no worse." Said Aragorn. "He had suffered much. There is no doubt that he was tormented, and the fear of Sauron lies black on his heart. Still I for one am glad that he is safely kept by the watchful Elves of Mirkwood. His malice is great and gives him strength hardly to be believed in one so lean and withered. He could work much mischief still, if he were free. And I do not doubt that he was allowed to leave Mordor on some evil errand."

"Alas!" cried Legolas, and in his fair elvish face there was great distress. "The tidings that I was sent to bring must now be told. They are not good, but only here have I learned how evil they may seem to this company. Sméagol, who is now called Gollum, has escaped."

"Escaped?" cried Aragorn. "That is ill news indeed. We shall all rue it bitterly, I fear. How came the folk of Thranduil to fail in their trust?"

"Not through lack of watchfulness," said Legolas; "but perhaps through over-kindliness. And fear that the prisoner had aid from others, and that more is known of our doings than we could wish. We guarded this creature day and night, at Gandalf's bidding, much though we wearied of the task. But Gandalf bade us hope still for his cure, and we had not the heart to keep him ever in dungeons under the earth, where he would fall back into his old black thoughts."

"You were less tender to me." Said Glóin with a flash of his eyes, as old memories were stirred of his imprisonment in the deep places of the Elven-king's halls.

"Now come!" said Gandalf. "Pray do not interrupt, my good Glóin. That was a regrettable misunderstanding, long set right. If all the grievances that stand between Elves and Dwarves are to be brought up here, we may as well abandon this Council."

Glóin rose and bowed, and Legolas continued.

"In the days of fair weather we led Gollum through the woods; and there was a high tree standing alone far from the others which he liked to climb. Often we let him mount up to the highest branches, until he felt the free wind; but we set a guard at the tree's foot. One day he refused to come down, and the guards had no mind to climb up after him: he had learned the trick of clinging to boughs with his feet as well as with his hands; so they sat by the tree far into the night.  
"It was that very night of summer, yet moonless and starless, that Orcs came on us at unawares. We drove them off after some time; they were many and fierce, but they came from over the mountains, and were unused to the woods. When the battle was over, we found that Gollum was gone, and his guards were slain or taken. It then seemed plain to us that the attack had been made for his rescue, and that he knew of it beforehand. How that was contrived we cannot guess; but Gollum is cunning, and the spies of the Enemy are many. The dark things that were driven out in the year of the Dragon's fall have returned in greater numbers, and Mirkwood is again an evil place, save where our realm is maintained.  
"We have failed to recapture Gollum. We came upon his trail and those of many Orcs, and it plunged deep into the forest, going south. But ere long it escaped our skill, and we dared not continue our hunt; for we were drawing nigh to Dol Goldur, and that is still a very evil place; we do not go that way."

"Well, well, he is gone." Said Gandalf. "We have no time to seek for him again. He must do what he will. But he may play a part yet that neither he nor Sauron has foreseen.  
"And now I will answer Galdor's other questions. What of Saruman? What are his counsels to us in this need? This tale I must tell in full, for only Elrond had heard it yet, and that in brief; but it bear on all that we resolve. It is the last chapter in the tale of the Ring, so far as it has yet gone."

The wizard went on to tell of how he came to discover Saruman's treachery after being directed to him by fellow wizard Radagast the Brown, and how upon refusing to join the corrupted White Wizard, Saruman kept him prisoner on the pinnacle of Orthanc. There he saw the once green and fair valley around the tower was now filled with pits and forges. Wolves and orcs were housed in Isengard, for Saruman was mustering a great force of his own account, in rivalry of Sauron.

"At first I feared, as Saruman no doubt intended, that Radagast had also fallen." Said Gandalf. "Yet I had caught no hint of anything wrong in his voice or in his eye at our meeting. If I had, I should never have gone to Isengard, or I should have gone more warily. So Saruman guessed, and he concealed his mind and deceived his messenger. It would have been useless in any case to try and win over the honest Radagast to treachery. He sought me in good faith and so persuaded me.  
"That was the undoing of Saruman's plot. For Radagast knew no reason why he should not do as I asked; and he rode away towards Mirkwood where he had many friends of old. And the Eagles of the Mountains went far and wide, and they saw many things: the gathering of wolves and the mustering of Orcs; and the Nine Riders going hither and thither in the lands; and they heard news of the escape of Gollum. And they sent a messenger to bring these tidings to me.  
"So it was that when summer waned, there came a night of moon, and Gwaihir the Windlord, swiftest of the Great Eagles, came unlooked-for to Orthanc; and he found me standing on the pinnacle. Then I spoke to him and he bore me away, before Saruman was aware. I was far from Isengard, ere the wolves and orcs issued from the gate to pursue me.  
" 'How far can you bear me?' I said to Gwaihir.  
" 'Many leagues,' said he, 'but not to the ends of the earth. I was sent to bear tidings not burdens.'  
" 'The I must have a steed on land,' I said, 'and a steed surpassingly swift, for I have never had such a need of haste before.'  
" 'Then I shall bear you to Edoras, where the Lord of Rohan sits in his halls,' he said; 'for that is not very far off.' And I was glad, for in the Riddermark of Rohan the Rohirrim, the Horse-lords, dwell, and there are no horses like those that are bred in that great vale between the Misty Mountains and the White.  
" 'Are the men of Rohan still to be trusted, do you think?' I said to Gwaihir, for the treason of Saruman had shaken my faith.  
" 'They pay a tribute of horses,' he answered, 'and send many yearly to Mordor, or so it is said; but they are not yet under the yoke. But if Saruman has become evil, as you say, then their doom cannot be long delayed.'

"He set me down in the land of Rohan ere dawn; and now I have lengthened my tale over long. The rest must be more brief. In Rohan I found evil already at work: the lies of Saruman; and the king of the land would not listen to my warnings. He bade me take a horse and be gone; and I chose one much to my liking, but little to his. I took the best horse in his land, and I have never seen the like of him."

Kitty smirked. She liked Gandalf's style. If the king was going to get all upset, he should have been more specific.

"Then he must be a noble beast indeed," said Aragorn; "and it grieves me more than many tidings that might seem worse to learn that Sauron levies such tribute. It was not so when last I was in that land."  
"Nor is it now, I will swear." Said Boromir.

"Been there more recently, have you?" Kitty asked.

"No." said Boromir. "But it is a lie that comes from the Enemy. I know the Men of Rohan, true and valiant, our allies, dwelling still in the lands that we gave them long ago."

"The shadow of Mordor lies on distant lands." Answered Aragorn. "Saruman has fallen under it. Rohan is beset. Who knows what you will find there, if ever you return?"

"They may not have a choice." Devin said regretfully. It sounded like the poisoning of the king's mind was already underway.

"Not this at least," said Boromir, "that they will buy their lives with horses. They love their horses next to their kin. And not without reason, for the horses of the Riddermark come from the fields of the North, far from the Shadow, and their race, as that of their masters, is descended from the free days of old."

"True indeed!" said Gandalf. "And there is one among them that might have been foaled in the morning of the world. The horses of the Nine cannot vie with him; tireless, swift as the flowing wind. Shadowfax they called him. By day his coat glistens like silver; and by night it is like a shade, and he passes unseen. Light is his footfall! Never before had any man mounted him, but I took him and tamed him, and so speedily he bore me that I reached the Shire when Frodo was on the Barrow-downs, though I set out from Rohan only when he set out from Hobbit."

Kitty sighed wistfully, looking as though she had fallen in love with the horse just hearing a bout it. Devin smiled knowingly at her friend.

"But fear grew in me as I rode." Gandalf continued with a curios glance at the sighing girl. "Ever as I came north I heard tidings of the Riders, and though I gained on them day by day, they were ever before me. They had divided their forces, I learned: some remained on the eastern borders, not far from the Greenway, and some invaded the Shire from the south. I came to Hobbiton and Frodo had gone; but I had words with old Gamgee. Many words and few to the point. He had much to say about the shortcomings of the new owners of Bag End. But amidst his talk I gathered that Frodo had left Hobbiton less than a week before, and that a black horseman had come to the Hill the same evening. Then I rode on in fear. I came to Buckland and found it in an uproar, as busy as a hive of ants that has been stirred with a stick. I came to the house at Crickhollow, and it was broken open and empty; but on the threshold there lay a cloak that had been Frodo's. Then for a while hope left me, and I did not wait to gather news, or I might have been comforted; but I rode on the trail of the Riders. It was hard to follow, for it went many ways, and I was at a loss. But it seemed to me that one or two had ridden towards Bree; and that way I went, for I thought of words that might be said to the innkeeper.  
" 'Butterbur they call him.' thought I. 'If this delay is his fault, I well melt all the butter in him. I will roast the old fool over a slow fire.' He expected no less, and when he saw my face he fell down flat and began to melt on the spot."

"What did you do to him?" cried Frodo in alarm. "He was really very kind to us and did all that he could."

Gandalf laughed. "Don't be afraid!" he said. "I did not bite, and I barked very little. So overjoyed was I by the news that I got out of him, when he stopped quaking, that I embraced the old fellow. How it happened I could not then guess, but I learned that you had been in Bree the night before, and had gone off that morning with Strider.  
" 'Strider!' I cried, shouting for joy.  
" 'Yes, sir, I am afraid so, sir.' Said Butterbur, mistaking me. 'He got at them, in spite of all that I could do, and they took up with him. They behaved very queer all the time they were here: willful, you might say.'  
"Ass! Fool! Thrice worthy and beloved Barliman!' said I. 'It's the best news I have had since Midsummer: it's worth a gold piece at least. May your beer be laid under an enchantment of surpassing excellence for seven years!' said I. 'Now I can take a night's rest, the first since I have forgotten when.'

"So I stayed there that night, wondering much what had become of the Riders; for only of two had there yet been any news in Bree, it seemed. But in the night we heard more. Five at least came from the west, and they threw down the gates and passed through Bree like a howling wind; and the Bree-folk are still shivering and expecting the end of the world. I got up before dawn and went after them.  
"I do not know, but it seems clear to me that this is what happened. Their Captain remained in secret away south of Bree, while two rode ahead through the village, and four more invaded the Shire. But when these were foiled in Bree and at Crickhollow, they returned to their Captain with tidings, and so left the Road unguarded for awhile, except by their spies. The Captain then sent some eastward straight across the country, and he himself with the rest rode along the Road in great wrath.  
"I galloped to Weathertop like a gale, and I reached it before sundown on my second day from Bree—and they felt the coming of my anger and they dared not face it while the Sun was in the sky. But they closed round at night, and I was besieged on the hill-top, in the old ring of Amon Sûl. I was hard put to it indeed: such light and flame cannot have been seen on Weathertop since the war beacons of old.  
"At sunrise I escaped and fled towards the north. I could not hope to do more. It was impossible to find you, Frodo, in the wilderness, and it would have been folly to try with all the Nine at my heels. So I had to trust to Aragorn. But I hoped to draw some of them off, and yet reach Rivendell ahead of you and send out help. Four Riders did indeed follow me, but they turned back after a while and made for the Ford, it seems. That helped a little, for there were only five, not nine, when your camp was attacked.  
"I reached here at last by a long hard road, up the Hoarwell and through the Ettenmoors, and down from the north. It took me nearly fourteen days from Weathertop, for I could not ride among the rocks of the troll-fells, and Shadowfax departed. I sent him back to his master; but a great friendship has grown between us, and if I have need he will come at my call. But so it was that I came to Rivendell only three days before the Ring, and news of its peril had already been brought here—which proved well indeed.  
"And that Frodo, is the end of my account. May Elrond and the others forgive the length of it. But such a thing has not happened before, that Gandalf broke tryst and did not come when he promised. An account to the Ring-bearer of so strange an event was required, I think.  
"Well, the Tale is now told from first to last. Here we all are, and here is the Ring. But we have not yet come any nearer to our purpose. What shall we do with it?"

There was a silence. Kitty nudged Devin in the arm and leaned close to whisper in her ear.

"Hey, can we hurry things along here? Because this is dragging on a lot longer than I thought it would. I don't know about you, but I'm starving!"

Devin glanced around at the thoughtful faces of the others gathered there. If memory served all that was left was for them to argue over whether or not they should simply hide or destroy the ring, and since the end result was what was most important, she considered giving into the temptation to skip most of the roundabout talk this time, but Boromir beat her to it.

"It is a gift." Boromir said, breaking the silence.

" 'Scuse me?" Kitty asked, staring at Boromir like he must have been dropped on the head as an infant.

"It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor." Boromir said more boldly. "Why not use this ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of _our_ people are your lands kept safe!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Devin noticed Aragorn sat back in his chair and shook his head slightly in disbelief as he stared at Boromir in disapproval. Though he said nothing aloud, she knew he must be recalling all his people, the Rangers of the North, and many others had done in secret to protect the people and safety of the land from Sauron's ever spreading evil beyond the borders of Gondor, as it had been outlined in the book. Boromir was proud, and it was true the people of Gondor had contributed much, but they were not the only ones still fighting the good fight.

"Give Gondor the weapon of the Enemy." Boromir said. "Let us use it against him."

"Are you willfully deaf?" Kitty asked incredulously, frowning at him. "Didn't you hear Gandalf? That thing is pure evil—it's Satan in a freaking Sunday hat!"

"You cannot wield it." Devin added a bit more calmly, speaking in a loud and clear voice so that all could hear, in case others were still harboring similar thoughts to Boromir's. "The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"That is easy and simple for you to say." Boromir said sternly, turning on her. "It is not your world that is in danger!"

"No, it's not. Not at the moment." Devin answered honestly with a grim expression on her face. "But it may be in the future, if you should fail to stop Sauron's evil here. If we could come through to this world from our side, then I shudder to think what might also be able to come through from yours. There is no magic in our world. The people of our would be like lambs to the slaughter in the face of such evil; or worse, in ignorance of the situation, some may unleash weapons of mass destruction in a desperate attempt to stop a force which they do not understand. They could decide to go nuclear. If that happens, our world will be destroyed and laid waste in a matter of days. Entire continents could be wiped out, the sky would become filled with dust and darkened with ash and radiation. An endless winter, the likes of which has never been seen in Middle Earth would fall upon us. The very Earth would be poisoned for decades: our entire world could die. Enslavement or death awaits us if your world falls. So if you think I speak lightly, then think again!"

"Dude…" Kitty said quietly, staring at her friend with wide eyes. "You're starting to scare even me." She hadn't even thought about that. Apparently Devin's imagine could be even more frightening than her own sometimes…

"Devin is right. We cannot use it." Gandalf said after another moment of heavy silence while the others all stared at the petite girl, stunned by the atrocities she had just described. In some ways, it seemed their world might be in even more danger than their own should Sauron prevail. Enslavement, or complete and total annihilation: it was hard to say which was worse.

"You have only one choice." Elrond said, standing. "The Ring must be destroyed." Only then would Sauron suffer complete and utter defeat. He would never die while the Ring remained.

"What are we waiting for?" Gimli asked, standing up with axe in hand. Before Elrond or the girls could warn him against such a futile action, the dwarf let out a mighty bellow and swung the blade of his axe down upon the Ring with such force that it shattered and exploded upon impact with the evil object and sent the hardy dwarf reeling backwards.

"Holy—!" Kitty cried in alarm, ducking just in time to avoid being lobotomized by one of the flying splinters of axe-blade.

"You okay?" Devin asked, concerned.

"Yeah… But let's not try that again any time soon…" Kitty suggested, chagrined. That had been way too close for comfort.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Glóin, by any craft that we hear possess." Elrond informed the stunned dwarf. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you… must do this." He said gravely, glancing at the faces of all assembled before him.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor." Said Boromir grimly. "Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland… riddled with fire, and ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten-thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?" Legolas asked, standing. "The Ring must be destroyed."

"And I suppose you think you are the one to do it!" Gimli said accusingly.

"And if we fail, what then?" What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" Boromir demanded, also standing.

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" Gimli shouted as he stood. Aragorn let out a sigh as the most of the others present began to join the argument. "Never trust and Elf!" Gimli shouted above the other's heated voices. Gandalf shook his head and sighed as well.

"Are they always this petty?" Kitty asked. "The fate of two worlds are in their hands, and they're arguing over semantics!"

"Very well, very well, Master Elrond!" Bilbo said suddenly before things had a chance to escalate any further. "Say no more! It is plain enough what you are pointing at. Bilbo the silly hobbit started this affair, and Bilbo had better finish it or himself. I was very comfortable here, and getting on with my book. If you want to know, I am just writing an ending for it. I had thought of putting: _and he lived happily ever afterwards to the end of his days._ It is a good ending, and none the worse for having been used before. Now I shall have to alter that: it does not look like coming true; and anyway there will evidently have to be several more chapters, if I live to write them. It is a frightful nuisance. When ought I to start?"

Boromir looked in surprise and disbelief at Bilbo, thinking surely what he had just said must have been in jest, but the laughter died on his lips when he saw that all the others regarded the old hobbit with grave respect. Only Glóin smiled, but his smile came from old memories.

"Of course, my dear Bilbo." Said Gandalf. "If you had really started this affair, you might be expected to finish it. But you know well enough now that _starting_ is too great a claim for any, and that only a small part is played in great deeds by any hero. You need not bow! Though the word was meant, and we do not doubt that under jest you are making a valiant offer. But one beyond your strength, Bilbo. You cannot take this thing back. It has passed on. If you need my advice any longer, I should say that your part is ended, unless as a recorder. Finish your book, and leave the ending unaltered! There is still hope for it. But get ready to write a sequel, when they come back."

Bilbo laughed. "I have never known you give me pleasant advice before." he said. "As all your unpleasant advice has been good, I wonder if this advice is not bad. Still I don't suppose I have the strength or luck left to deal with the Ring. It has grown, and I have not. But tell me: what do you mean by _they_?"

"The messengers who are sent with the Ring."

"Exactly! And who are they to be? That seems to me what this Council has to decide, and all that it has to decide. Elves may thrive on speech alone, and Dwarves endure great weariness; but I am only an old hobbit, and I miss my meal at noon. Can't you think of some names now? Or put it off till after dinner?"

No one answered. The noon-bell rang. Still no one spoke. Devin and Kitty knew who it had to be, but Devin had already cautioned her friend not to say anything the previous evening. She felt that if they had to go into such danger and deal with the slow poisoning of that treacherous Ring, it should be by the company's own choice. She felt it was an important difference to their resolve between choosing a difficult path for themselves of their own free will, or being made to feel as though someone else had forced them into it. It may not seem like much in the beginning; but when things were hard, it could make all the difference. And she had faith Frodo would step up to the mat when push came to shove without any prodding from them.

Frodo glanced at all the faces, but they were not turned to him. All the Council, aside from the two girls, who seemed to be patiently waiting for something, sat with downcast eyes, as if in deep thought. A great dread fell on him, as if he was awaiting the pronouncement of some doom that he had long foreseen and vainly hoped might after all never be spoken. An overwhelming longing to rest and remain at peace by Bilbo's side in Rivendell filled all his heart. At last with an effort he spoke, and wondered to hear his own words, as if some other will was using his small voice.

"I will take the Ring," he said, "though I do not know the way." The two girls were smiling softly at him, knowing the courage it must have taken and the hard journey he would have ahead of him. Gandalf closed his eyes briefly before turning with the others to raise their heads and look at the young hobbit. If at all possible, he had been hoping to spare Frodo as well from the burden of continuing to carry the Ring. Elrond raised his eyes and looked at him, and Frodo felt his heart pierced by the sudden keenness of the glance.

"If I understand aright what I have heard," he said, with a brief flicker of his eyes to the two girls and back, "I think that this task is appointed for you, Frodo; and that if you do not find a way, no one will. This is the hour of the Shire-folk, when they arise from their quiet fields to shake the towers and counsels of the great. Who of all the Wise could have foreseen it? Or, if they are wise, why should they expect to know it, until the hour has struck?  
"But this is a heavy burden. So heavy that none could lay it on another. I do not lay it on you. But if you take it freely, I will say that your choice is right; and though all the mighty elf-friends of old, Hador, and Húrin, and Túrin, and Beren himself were assembled together, your seat should be among them."

"And I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins." Gandalf said. "For as long as it is yours to bear."

"You have my sword." Aragorn said, standing so that he might cross the porch and kneel before the brave little hobbit.

"And you have my bow." Legolas said, coming forward.

"And my axe." Gimli said, also stepping forward to join the group. The elf-prince looked less than thrilled, and the dwarf shot him a look that said 'deal with it'.

"You carry the fates of us all, little one." Boromir said. "If this is indeed the will of the Council… then Gondor will see it done."

"Hey!" Sam shouted abruptly as he suddenly sprang from his hiding place and ran over to stand beside Frodo, unable to contain himself any longer. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me." He insisted stubbornly, crossing his arms.

"No indeed!" said Elrond with a smile. "It is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not."

"Oi! We're coming, too!" Merry cried out as he and Pippin jumped out from behind two columns, startling the elf-lord, who appeared to be incredibly taken aback to find that his security had been breached by not just one, but _three_ hobbits. He had spotted Sam early on from his seat, but he had not been aware of these other two mischief makers. "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us."

"This was your doing somehow, wasn't it?" Devin asked, looking at Kitty.

"No one sends a maid to disturb my slumber after a night of drinking and gets away with it." Kitty replied with a Cheshire cat grin.

"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of… mission. Quest. Thing." Pippin said.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip." Merry said. Devin raised an eyebrow while Kitty smiled in amusement.

"Nine companions." Elrond said thoughtfully.

"Ahem. Actually, make that eleven, Boss-man. We've decided we're coming, too." Kitty said as she and Devin stepped forward to volunteer.

"We've stuck with you this far." Devin told Frodo and the others. "We might as well go the whole distance."

"So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring." Elrond said.

"Great!" Pippin said. "Where are we going?"


	13. Chapter 13

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 13: The Ring Goes South**

* * *

"My, that was a great deal of talk, and just about everyone had an eye-opener." Bilbo said once the Council had been dismissed, and they were finally allowed to leave and have their lunch. The hobbits had decided to make a picnic of it so they could have a meeting of their own while they ate. Of course, they weren't completely alone, as Gandalf and the girls were with them. "Even old Gandalf. I think Legolas's bit of news about Gollum caught him on the hop, though he passed it off."

"You were wrong." Said Gandalf. "You were in attentive. I had already heard of it from Gwaihir. If you want to know, the only real eye-openers, as you put it, were you and Frodo; and I, with the exception of these two young ladies, was the only one not surprised." Kitty and Devin both raised an eyebrow. What, no mention of Devin's rant about the possible unleashing of an apocalypse on their own world? Was that not interesting enough for them?

"Well, anyway," said Bilbo. "Did you see Elrond's face when those two popped out?" Bilbo asked with a twinkle in his eye, chuckling at the memory of the elf-lord's priceless expression upon seeing Merry and Pippin had invaded the secret council without his knowing.

"Yeah." Kitty agreed with an impish grin. "I should have taken a picture."

"And then I'm sure he would have had your phone destroyed along with all potential blackmail in it." Devin said, smiling wryly.

" 'Phone'?" Bilbo asked curiously. "What is that? One of the strange devices you brought with you from your world?"

"Yep. I'll show it you later, if you want." Kitty said. "It's supposed to be used as a communication device that lets people miles apart have a real-time conversation instead of waiting on letters, but it's pretty much just a flying brick now without the satellites in our world to carry the call signal."

"Wait. It flies, too?" Pippin asked excitedly.

"It does if I throw it at people." Kitty answered with a smirk.

"She breaks more phones that way." Devin said, shaking her head. "But enough about Kitty's idiosyncrasies. Did you say before that you wanted to talk about what will happen next, concerning the Ring?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Yes. Oh, but I suppose we won't really be able to do very much until the reports come in." Bilbo said. "Have they started yet, Gandalf?"

"Yes." Said the wizard. "Some of the scouts have been sent out already. More will go tomorrow. Elrond is sending Elves, and they will get in touch with the Rangers, and maybe Thranduil's folk in Mirkwood. And Aragorn has gone with Elrond's sons. We shall have to scour the lands all round for many long leagues before any move is made. So cheer up, Frodo! You will probably make quite a long stay here."

"Ah!" said Sam gloomily. "We'll wait just long enough for winter to come."

"That can't be helped." Said Bilbo. "It's your fault partly, Frodo my lad: insisting on waiting for my birthday. A funny way of remembering it, I can't help thinking. _Not _the day I should have chosen for letting the S.-Bs. into Bag End."

"_You_ wouldn't have chosen any day." Devin said.

"Yes, quite." He admitted with a chuckle. "But there it is: you can't wait now till spring; and you can't go till the reports come back.

_When winter first begins to bite  
and stones crack in the frosty night,  
when pools are black and trees are bare,  
'tis evil in the Wild to fare._

But that I am afraid will be just your luck."

"I am afraid it will." Said Gandalf. "We can't start until we have found out about the Riders."

"I thought they were all destroyed in the flood." Said Merry.

"You cannot destroy Ringwraiths like that." Said Gandalf. "The power of their master is in them, and they stand or fall by him. We hope that they were all unhorsed and unmasked, and so made for a while less dangerous; but we must find out for certain. In the meantime you should try and forget your troubles, Frodo. Which reminds me, I want to see Elrond. I must be off."

"What part of that reminded him of Elrond?" Kitty wondered out loud as they watched the wizard walk away.

"Who knows, I've long since given up trying to figure out what goes on in that old wizard's noggin." Bilbo said good-naturedly.

"How long do you think I shall have here?" Frodo asked Bilbo when Gandalf had gone.

"Oh, I don't know. I can't count days in Rivendell." Said Bilbo. "But quite long, I should think. We can have many a good talk. What about helping me with my book, and making a start on the next? Have you thought of an ending?"

"Yes, several, and all are dark and unpleasant." Said Frodo. Kitty raised an eyebrow at that. Not one for optimism, was he, their Frodo?

"Oh, that won't do!" Bilbo said. "Books ought to have good endings. How would this do: _and they all settled down and lived together happily ever after_?"

"It will do well, if it comes to that." Frodo said.

"Ah!" said Sam. "And where will they live? That's what I often wonder."

"Why, wherever they want, of course." Devin said, smiling.

For awhile the hobbits and girls continued to talk and think of the past journey and of the perils that lay ahead; but such was the virtue of Rivendell, that soon all fear and anxiety was lifted from their minds. The future, good or ill, was not forgotten, but ceased to have any power over the present. Health and hope grew strong in them, and they were content with each good day as it came, taking pleasure in every meal, and in every word and song. Devin had begun practicing her cheerleading to stay limber, and she soon became a novelty among the elves for her agility and athletic ability, just as Kitty had become one for her music.  
So the days slipped away, as each morning dawned bright and fair, and each evening followed cool and clear. But autumn was waning fast; slowly the golden light faded to pale silver, and the lingering leaves fell from the naked trees. A wind began to blow chill from the Misty Mountains to the east. The Hunter's Moon waxed round in the night sky, and put to flight all the lesser star. But low in the South one star shone red. Every night, as the Moon waned again, it shone brighter and brighter. Frodo could see it from his window, deep in the heavens, burning like a watchful eye that glared above the tree on the brink of the valley.

They had been nearly two months in the House of Elrond, and November had gone by with the last shreds of autumn, and December was passing, when the scouts began to return. Some had gone north beyond the springs of the Hoarwell into the Ettenmoors; and others had gone west, and with the help of Aragorn and the Rangers had searched the lands far down the Greyflood, as far as Tharbad, where the old North Road crossed the river by a ruined town. Many had gone east and south; and some of these had crossed the Mountains and entered Mirkwood, while others had climbed the pass at the source of the Gladden River, and had come down into the Wilderland and over the Gladden Fields and so at length had reached the old home of Radagast at Rhosgobel. Radagast was not there; and they had returned over the high pass that was called the Dimrill Stair. The sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, were the last to return; they had made a great journey, passing down the Silverlode in a strange country, but of their errand they would not speak to any save Elrond.  
In no region had messengers discovered any signs or tidings of the Riders or other servants of the Enemy. Even from the Eagles of the Misty Mountains they had learned no fresh news. Nothing had been seen or heard of Gollum; but the wild wolves were still gathering, and were hunting again far up the Great River. Three of the black horses had been found at once drowned in the flooded Ford. On the rocks of the rapids below it searchers discovered the bodies of five more, and also a long black cloak, slashed and tattered. Of the Black Riders no other trace was to be seen, and nowhere was their presence to be felt. It seemed that they had vanished from the North.

"Eight out of the Nine are accounted for at least." Said Gandalf. "It is rash to be too sure, yet I think that we may hope now that the Ringwraiths were scattered, and have been obliged to return as best they could to their Master in Mordor, empty and shapeless.  
"If that is so, it will be some time before they can begin the hunt again. Of course, the Enemy has other servants, but they will have to journey all the way to the borders of Rivendell before they can pick up our trail. And if we are careful, that will be hard to find. But we must delay no longer."

It was decided the company must depart in seven days. Aragorn and Gandalf walked together or sat speaking of their road and the perils they would meet; and they pondered the storied and figured maps and books of lore that were in the house of Elrond. Sometimes Frodo and the girls were with them, but they were content to lean on their guidance, and he spent as much time as he could with Bilbo, while the girls focused more on getting prepared for the long journey ahead, as they had yet to pack; or decide what to do with the artifacts they possessed which did not belong in this world, and seemed greatly concerned that their more advanced technology should not fall into the hands of the Enemy. In the end, with much sorrow, the girls allowed for their phones, ipods, and many other small items to be destroyed rather than try to recharge them, saying they could always be replaced once they returned to their world, however dear their loss may feel at the moment.  
In those last days the hobbits and girls sat together in the evening in the Hall of Fire, and there they heard the told in full the lay of Beren and Lúthien and the winning of the Great Jewel; but in the day, while Merry, Pippin, Devin, and Kitty were out and about, Frodo and Sam were to be found with Bilbo in his own small room. Then Bilbo would read passages from his book (which still seemed very incomplete), or scraps of his verses, or would take notes of Frodo's adventures.  
On the morning of the last day Frodo was alone with Bilbo, and the old hobbit pulled out from under his bed a wooden box. He lifted the lid and fumbled inside.

"Here is your sword." He said. "But it was broken, you know. I took it to keep it safe, but I've forgotten to ask if the smiths could mend it. No time now. So I thought, perhaps, you would care to have this, don't you know?"

He took from the box a small sword in an old shabby leathern scabbard. Then he drew it, and its polished and well-tended blade glittered suddenly, cold and bright.

"This is Sting." He said, and thrust it with little effort deep into a wooden beam. "Take it, if you like. I shan't want it again, I expect."

Frodo accepted it gratefully.

"Also there is this!" said Bilbo, bringing out a parcel which seemed to be rather heavy for its size. He unwound several folds of old cloth, and held up a small shirt of mail. It was close-woven of many rings, as supple almost as linen, cold as ice, and harder than steel. It shone like moonlit silver, and was studded with white gems. With it was a belt of pearl and crystal.

"It's a pretty thing, isn't it?" said Bilbo, moving it in the light. "And useful. It is my dwarf-mail that Thorin gave me. I got it back from Michel Delving before I started, and packed it with my luggage. I brought all the mementoes of my Journey away with me, except the Ring. But I did not expect to use this, and I don't need it now, except to look at sometimes. You hardly feel any weight when you put it on."

"It should look—well, I don't think I should look right in it." Said Frodo.

"Just what I said myself." Said Bilbo. "But never mind about looks. You can wear it under your outer clothes. Come on! You must share this secret with me. Don't tell anybody else! But I should feel happier if I knew you were wearing it. I have a fancy it would turn even the knives of the Black Riders." He ended in a low voice.

"Very well, I will take it, said Frodo. Bilbo put it on him, and fastened Sting upon the glittering belt; and then Frodo put over the top his old weather-stained breeches, tunic, and jacket.

"Just a plain hobbit you look." Said Bilbo. "But there is more about you now than appears on the surface. Good luck to you!" He turned away and looked out of the window, trying to hum a tune.

"I cannot thank you as I should, Bilbo, for this, and for all your past kindnesses." Said Frodo.

"Don't try!" said the old hobbit, turning round and slapping him on the back. "Ow!" he cried. "You are too hard now to slap! But there you are: Hobbits must stick together, and especially Bagginses. All I ask in return is: take as much care of yourself as you can, and bring back all the news you can come by. I'll do my best to finish my book before you return. I should like to write the second book, if I am spared." He broke off and turned to the window again, singing softly.

_I sit beside the fire and think  
of all that I have seen,  
of meadow-flowers and butterflies  
in summers that have been;_

_Of yellow leaves and gossamer  
in autumns that there were,  
with morning mist and silver sun  
and wind upon my hair._

_I sit beside the fire and think  
of how the world will be  
when winter comes without a spring that I shall ever see._

_For still there are so many things  
that I have never seen:  
in every wood in every spring  
there is a different green._

_I sit beside the fire and think  
of people long ago,  
and people who will see a world  
that I shall never know._

_But all the while I sit and think  
of times there were before,  
I listen for returning feet  
and voices at the door._

Meanwhile the girls were called upon by Elrond and Arwen, and given a few gifts of their own to aide them on their journey. The elves who had made a habit of watching Devin's cheerleading workouts had tailored a couple of special outfits in dark berry hues for her that were designed to allow for optimum movement for the wearer, and almost reminded her of an elvish winter cheerleading uniform with leggings, boots, and a matching coat to wear rather than a cloak. It was functional and simple, but elegant. True to the elven style. Kitty was given a couple of outfits similar to Arwen's riding habit in shades of blue, to match her eyes.  
The girls were then lead to the armory and allowed to choose a weapon or two of their choice since they had none of their own to begin with. Kitty immediately chose a sword. It had a long handle, so that it could easily be gripped with two hands for more power in the swing. Devin had a hard time choosing at first, but Kitty helped her narrow it down by suggesting she try a set of two double-ended daggers, pointing out that they were a lot like the pompoms she was used to performing with, only sharper. Devin also ended up taking a set of small throwing knives. She was really quite good at darts, after all.

"I had words with Aragorn about reforging the sword." Elrond said to Devin in a low voice while they watched Arwen help Kitty adjust her form to properly wield the elven sword she have chosen. "He would not be persuaded."

"He'll change his mind, in time. He'll have to. Even if he won't do it for himself or because we say it's necessary, he'll still do it in the end. He'll do it for her." Devin said, glancing pointedly at Arwen. Elrond followed her gaze.

"You are certain of this?" he asked.

"Yes. I believe what's meant to be will always find a way. And those two are meant for each other." She said, smiling up at him reassuringly.

"I hope for her sake, for all our sakes, that you are right." Elrond said as he watched his smiling daughter laugh at Kitty's antics.

It was a cold and grey day near the end of December. The East Wind was streaming through the bare branches of the trees, and seething in the dark pines on the hills. Ragged clouds were hurrying overhead, dark and low. As the cheerless shadows of the early evening began to fall the Company made ready to set out. They were to start at dusk, for Elrond counseled them to journey under cover of night as often as they could, until they were far from Rivendell.

"You should fear the many eyes of the servants of Sauron." He said. "I do not doubt that the news of the discomfiture of the Riders has already reached him, and he will be filled with wrath. Soon now his spies on foot and wing will be abroad in the northern lands. Even of the sky above you must beware as you go on your way."

The Company took little gear of war, for their hope was secrecy not in battle. Aragorn was once again clad in his weathered ranger gear. Boromir had a long sword, and he bore also a shield and his war horn.

"Loud and clear it sounds in the valleys of the hill," he said, "and then let all the foes of Gondor flee!" Putting it to his lips he blew a blast, and the echoes leapt from rock to rock, all that heard that voice in Rivendell sprang to their feet.

"Slow should you be to wind that horn again, Boromir," said Elrond, "until you stand once more on the borders of your land, and dire need is on you."

"Maybe." Said Boromir. "But I always let my horn cry at setting forth, and though thereafter we may walk in the shadows, I will not go forth as a thief in the night." Kitty rather subtly rolled her eyes at this. He was such a jock.

Gimli the dwarf alone wore openly a short shirt of steel rings and a helm upon his head, for dwarves make light of burdens; and in his belt was a broad-bladed axe. More of varying lengths were strapped upon his back. Legolas had a bow and a quiver, and two long white knives holstered on his back. The younger hobbits wore the swords they had taken from the barrow; but Frodo only took Sting; and his mail coat, as Bilbo wished, remained hidden. The girls wore their gifts from the Elves of Rivendell, and chose to leave all their other-worldly belongings (aside from the lighter, which could prove quite handy) in the safe-keeping of the Elves for the duration of their journey. Gandalf bore his staff, but girt at his side was the elven-sword Glamdring, the mate of Orcrist that now lay upon the breast of Thorin under the Lonely Mountain.  
All were well furnished by Elrond with thick warm clothes, and they had jackets and cloaks lined with fur. Spare food and clothes and blankets and other needs were laden on a pony, none other than the poor beast that they had brought from Bree.  
The stay in Rivendell had worked a great wonder of change on him: he was glossy and seemed to have the vigor of youth. It was Sam who had insisted on choosing him, declaring that Bill (as he called him, though Kitty had wanted to name him Tequila) would pine, if he did not come.

"That animal can nearly talk," he said, "and would talk, if he stayed here much longer. He gave me a look as plain as Mr. Pippin could speak it: if you don't let me go with you, Sam, I'll follow on my own." So Bill was going as the beast of burden, yet he and the girls were the only members of the company that did not seem depressed.

Their farewells had been said in the great hall by the fire, and they were only waiting now for Gandalf, who had not yet come out of the house. A gleam of firelight came from the open doors, and soft lights were glowing in many windows. Bilbo huddled in a cloak stood silent on the doorstep beside Frodo. Aragorn sat with his head bowed to his knees; only Elrond and Devin knew fully what this hour meant to him. The others could be seen as grey shapes in the darkness. Sam was standing by the pony and the girls, sucking his teeth, and staring moodily into the gloom where the river roared stonily below; in contrast to Kitty, who seemed most excited and could not wait to get started, his desire for adventure was at its lowest ebb.

"Bill, my lad," he said, "you oughtn't to have took up with us. You could have stayed here and et the best hay till the new grass comes." Bill swished his tail and said nothing.

Sam eased the pack on his shoulders, and went over anxiously in his mind all the things that he had stowed in it, wondering if he had forgotten anything: his chief treasure, his cooking gear; and the little box of salt that he always carried and refilled when he could; a good supply of pipe-weed (but not near enough, I'll warrant); flint and tinder; woolen hose; linen; various small belongings of his master's that Frodo had forgotten and Sam had stowed to bring them out in triumph when they were called for. He went through them all.

"Rope!" he muttered. "No rope! And only last night you said to yourself: 'Sam, what about a bit of rope? You'll want it if you haven't got it.' Well, I'll want it. I can't get it now."

"Does he realize he's talking out loud to himself?" Kitty whispered to Devin.

"Oh, leave him alone. He's just nervous, and he has good reason to be." Devin said. "We would be, too, if we had any sense."

At that moment Elrond came out with Gandalf, and he called the Company to him. "This is my last word." He said in a low voice. "The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest to Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid; neither to cast the Ring away, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need. The other go with him as free companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy it will be to withdraw; yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road."

"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens." Said Gimli.

"Maybe," said Elrond, "but let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall."

"Yet sworn word may strengthen quaking heart." Said Gimli.

"Or break it." Said Elrond. "Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts! Farewell, and may the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!"

"Good… good luck!" cried Bilbo, stuttering with the cold. "I don't suppose you will be able to keep a diary, Frodo my lad, but I shall expect a full account when you get back. And don't be too long! Farewell!"

Many others from Elrond's household stood in the shadows and watched them go, bidding them farewell with soft voices. There was no laughter, and no song or music. At last they turned away and faded silently into the dusk.  
They crossed the bridge and wound slowly up the long steep paths that led out of the cloven vale of Rivendell; and they came at length to the high moor where the wind hissed through the heather. Then with one glance at the Last Homely House twinkling below them they strode away far into the night.


End file.
